


Light in a Sea of Darkness

by CinnaDrift, CinnamonRoll2131, DriftingFarandWide



Series: Light in the Darkness: Voltron Avatar AU [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bending (Avatar), F/M, Fire Nation, Galra Empire, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:31:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8648320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnaDrift/pseuds/CinnaDrift, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonRoll2131/pseuds/CinnamonRoll2131, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DriftingFarandWide/pseuds/DriftingFarandWide
Summary: Millard is lonely in his perfect world, with everything he could ever want and need. He longs for adventure, and for a friend.
His new friend Keith might just be the key to finding all the adventure he could ever want, and maybe even more than he could want.Unfortunately, it might not make his Dad all that happy.





	1. The Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the culmination of nearly 3 months of work!  
> This began as a chat on a discord server and grew into the monstrosity that it is today.  
> We'll try to keep a weekly update schedule.
> 
> The character Millard was created by @Davestrider123 on tumblr, give them a shout out for their adorable fluff child.  
> We're enjoying writing this character immensely.
> 
> You can find me at @DriftingFarandWide or @ProneTaDrift on twitter, and you can find CinnamonBun at @CinnimonEcho on tumblr.  
> I hope you enjoy this story, I've had a lot of fun writing it!
> 
> Comments are incredibly appreciated!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start to set the scene and develop characters.  
> :3

 

> We are born to believe,  
>  We can't change a thing.  
>  We can't,  
>  and we never could.  
>  But before you believe,  
>  the things you believe,  
>  you must understand,  
>  to be  
>  understood.

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

### The Prisoner

 

         Millard was bored. He doodled idly on the note paper on the desk in front of him, yellow eyes half-closed in disinterest. He started when his tutor cleared his throat and called his name. Millard gulped, his furry ears drooping. He sighed under his breath; resigning himself to another lecture on the importance of everything he was supposed to be learning. He tuned out Mr. Maccom’s nasally voice, and instead daydreamed about what he was really interested in: The attacks of the Paladins.

         Ever since he’d gotten his little claws on the first grainy photos of the Paladin raids, Millard had been obsessed. He had overheard a conversation between commander Haxus and a messenger, one that he knew he probably wasn't meant to be hearing, but afterwords he had gone to them and asked for more information.  
         Haxus had been displeased, but one tense telegraph conversation- and many threats of lost ranks- later , Millard had all the photos he could want, and a guarantee of more when they arrived. Unfortunately, as Millard’s interest in the paladins had increased, his interest in his schoolwork had plummeted, which was why he was here now, getting lectured for his inattentiveness.

        The world came back into focus, and Millard realized that Mr. Maccom was standing over his desk, looking quite displeased. In hindsight, ignoring the lecture might not have been such a good idea. Millard listened meekly as the tutor started to lay out his homework for the night.

        The door opened to reveal one of the many servants in the kingdom. “The young master is to go straight to his room. Now.” The servant’s tone made it obvious that there was no room for debate. Millard climbed out his seat, hiding a smile as he left the room. He didn’t know why his lesson was being cut short, but he wasn’t complaining.

        On his way out, the same attendant who had ordered Millard to his room stopped him, handing him an envelope. “Another package arrived for you today, young master.” Millard could barely contain his excitement. He walked quickly down the hall, running as soon as he was around the corner, feet pounding the ground in his rush to get to his room.

 

* * *

 

       As soon as the door closed behind him, he flung himself onto the bed and ripped open the envelope. Inside he found exactly what he’d been hoping for. The Paladins had staged another attack. This time they had struck a supply transport bound for Balmer, capturing large amounts of valuable construction metal. The photos included in the envelope showed a cluster of warped and twisted transport trucks in the middle of what looked like a smoldering crater. Etched in the side of the one of the surviving sides of one truck was the insignia of the Paladins, a stylized “V.”

       Millard scoured the photos for anything else related to the paladins, but they had covered their tracks well. He tapped his fingers on his chin idly as he looked at the report that had also been in the envelope.  
       It was written by one of the transport’s guards, an eye witness description of the attack. The guard reported that a glaringly bright wave of fire had washed over the vehicles in the night, blinding both the drivers and the soldiers meant to defend the shipment. Immediately after, the first truck in the line had crumpled like a stomped can. The ground rippled, wrenching axles from their places and leaving the other trucks crippled. Arrows streaked from the night, the archer concealed by the smoke from the now burning vehicles.

       Trapped under a burning truck, the soldier had been unable to see the faces of the attackers, but his description of their powers was unmistakable. Millard shivered with excitement. “They’re so cool!” He thought to himself. He leaned over the edge of his bed, rummaging around under it until he found what he had been looking for amid the rest of the clutter. It was a book, a little the worse for wear because of where he kept it. Inside were all of the reports he had gotten of Paladin raids since he had first heard of them.  
       The pages were covered with pictures of the destruction left in the Paladins’ wake, with their insignia present in most of them.

       The prize photo of the collection was a picture of a man and a woman, stood next to each other. The bottom half of the man’s face was covered by a black mask, but it did not conceal the knotted scar running across his face, nor the startling white of the front of his hair. His arms were extended out in front of him, as though he was reaching for something. The woman had a bow trained on someone outside of the frame, drawn to full strength and prepared to let it fly. Her silver hair, brown skin, and fearless countenance marked her as the leader of the resistance, Allura Altan.  
       Allura’s presence made the man standing to her right in the image the metal-bender Takashi Shirogane, her second in command, known to the Galra as the Champion. They were a feared duo, capable of incredible feats of destruction, public enemies One and Two to the Galra Empire.

       Millard’s examination of the photos was cut off when the compound pulsed, at the same time that he was hit by a wave of nausea.  
“The fire-suppressors!” He thought to himself. ”Why did they activate the compound wide suppressors?”

       The suppressors were a wonder of Galran research into the spirit realm, or so Millard had been taught.  
       They were made of carefully refined and altered crystals, outputting energy that would cut a Firebender off from the spiritual connection to their element. While in the grip of a suppressor, many Galra expressed discomfort at the loss of their bending, but Millard had never heard of anyone reacting to the suppressor as strongly as he himself did.

       Soon after that there was a distant whump from the other side of the compound, as though something heavy had hit the ground.

       Millard groaned as he slid off his bed and crawled under it.  
       He always felt a little better under the bed. It was warm and dark, and he had a little nest built under it. It was his safe place, where he went when he wanted to hide.

       A second pulse thrummed through the compound. Millard fought the urge to vomit yet again, flailing wildly in an effort to gather his blankets around him.

 

_Clang_

 

       The sound rang out as he struck the wall. He clutched his hand tightly, waiting for the pain to dissipate, and while he did, the nausea brought on by the suppressors faded away, as did their sickening aura.  
    He pulled the blankets away from the wall where they sat crumpled up and stared at the metal plate behind the bed that had given off the sound.  
   “How have I never seen this before?” He wondered to himself. The vent panel was surprisingly large. He peered through the grating, trying to see what was on the other side.

       The space was dark, and extended as far as the meager light from his room would reach. Beyond that was just inky black nothingness.  
    He crawled out from under his bed and moved to his desk, where he opened a drawer and pulled out a chunk of softly glowing crystal.  
       He moved back under the bed and lifted the stone so that he could see how the grate was fastened to the wall.  
    His search revealed that it was held in place by a group of clips at each corner.

       Millard carefully prodded at them, and found that they could be undone with little difficulty.  
       Excited by the prospect of exploration, Millard hoisted up his stone lamp and started moving forward into the tunnel. It was a bit cramped, but for once his small stature helped him enormously.  
He moved slowly through the ventilation system, pausing at various vents when snatches of conversation caught his ears.  
From what he could hear, someone or something had been captured and brought in, which was why the suppressors had been necessary.

       Millard hadn’t known that this base was equipped with a prison. What else didn’t he know about his home?  
Most of the other conversations were less interesting, mundane reports or casual family related conversations, but there was always another split in the the tunnel that led to another vent.  
Eventually, Millard found himself turned around. He wasn’t sure which way he had come from, and he found, much to his dismay, that none of the vent panels opened from the inside

 

       He was stuck.

 

       He certainly wasn’t going to call for help; that would only get him in trouble.  
So he began to search, hoping that there would be at least one other grate that he could get out of.  
       Eventually, after numerous vents and several tense moments where he was nearly caught, he found what he had been looking for.

       Wary of alerting anyone to his presence, he listened through the vent. When he was sure that the room was empty, he quietly removed the grating from its place and set it carefully in the passageway.  
The panel had been set way up on the the wall, and it was bit of a drop to the floor below.  
       As he climbed out of the hole in the wall, he became aware of his nausea creeping slowly back, at the same time that he realized that he was being watched.

       He reached the ground, and slowly turned around to see a human sitting on a bench attached to the wall.  
       The human was pale skinned, with obsidian hair and eyes like violet chips of glass. He sat with his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his clasped hands. He seemed to be teenaged, but Millard had a hard time telling ages when it came to humans. He looked only vaguely curious as to why a child had just dropped into the room, as though he was lost in thought.  
       Something about him seemed off to Millard, but that wasn’t really what was worrying him right at the moment.

       The human blinked, noticing him for the first time. He took in the open grate in the wall, then looked at Millard curiously, and said, “Who are you?”  
       Millard looked around nervously, wondering if there was any way that he could make a quick escape.  
       “My n-name is M-Millard.” He stammered, trying to figure out what to do.

       As he took stock of his surroundings, Millard realized the magnitude of the mistake he’d made.  
It was becoming fairly obvious that he had accidentally crawled into the prison that he had learned about during his escapade.  
The door was reinforced steel, the lights were dim, and, set in the ceiling in a metal housing, was a miniature suppression crystal glowing a malignant purple.

       ‘Oh, Quiznak.’ He thought to himself. ‘This must be the person they brought in today.’  
       He gulped and started moving back towards the wall he had crawled out of, hoping to make a jump up to the vent and scramble in.  
       This time, his height, or lack of it, did not help him.

       He reached the wall and tried to leap back up to his escape route. His fingers missed the opening by a few inches and he fell back down.  
He turned around and pressed himself against the wall, his fur prickling in fear.  
       The human sat up, obviously confused.  
His confusion turned to alarm as he sniffed the air, and said, “Whoa, hey, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

       “Why should I b-believe you?” Millards voice wavered.

       The human looked at him strangely, and then blinked, his eyes flashing yellow before he slumped back onto the bench, rubbing at them, and said, “You shouldn’t, kid. I can’t be trusted with anything.” He folded his arms over his stomach, appearing to fall back into a state of apathy.

       The human’s behavior gave Millard pause. Most Galra would have proven their words by attacking after saying something like that, if the books he had -ah- acquired were anything to go by.  
       He relaxed enough that his fur began to smooth down, but he stayed firmly against the wall.  
       “What’s your name?”

       “What?” The question seemed to catch the human off-guard.  
       “I told you mine. It's not fair if you don’t tell me yours.”

       The teen cocked his head and looked at Millard for a long moment, considering.  
       “Keith. My name is Keith.”

       “Keith.” Millard rolled the name around in his mouth.  
       It was strange, far less harsh than most of the names of his own people.

       He looked around the room again, searching for anything he might have missed, when his gaze fell again on the stone in the ceiling. He started, then gave Keith a questioning look.

       “Are you a Firebender?” he asked, “I didn’t know humans could be Firebenders.”

       “They aren’t very common, but yeah.” Keith answered. “I am.” He looked uncomfortable at the question.

       All Galra were Firebenders. Many could only command a small flame, but others could summon raging firestorms on a whim. Millard had been learning to control his bending since it had first manifested 5 years ago. His teachers were very accomplished, but he still had a lot of trouble controlling the heat and ferocity of his flames.

       “How come you’re in prison?” Millard broke the silence again, wondering why this Keith was being locked up.

       Keith was silent for a long moment. He looked at Millard.When he spoke, he sounded sad.

       “I killed someone who tried to make me hurt people. The rest of his friends were very angry at me for that. I had to run away, but they’ve been chasing me ever since, and they finally caught up with me.”

       Millard sat quietly for a moment, digesting what he had been told.  
       He hadn’t expected that at all. All the stories he had read said that doing something like that made you a hero. Why wasn’t Keith being treated like one?

       He was confused and stuck, and with that thought, his mind returned to his other problem.

       They would be coming to his room soon, to get him for dinner. He had to get out of here quickly.

       He considered what he’d heard from Keith, and then decided to take a chance.

       “Can you… Help me?” He asked timidly, his claws scratching the metal of the floor.  
       “I need to get back to my room, but I can’t reach the vent from the floor.”

       “So I saw.” Keith snorted.

       He stood up, walking cautiously across the room. Millard felt a spike of anxiety, but it faded away when Keith seemed to sense it and stopped moving, giving Millard a reassuring smile.

       He put his hands together near the floor, providing Millard with a platform to step on. “Up you go.” he said, gesturing towards the wall with his head.

       Millard carefully stepped onto his hands, and Keith gave him the boost he needed. He climbed unceremoniously back into the vent, taking care not to kick Keith by accident as he flailed around.  
       He turned around and saw that Keith had returned to his bench and was sitting quietly again.

       Millard whispered, “Thank you,” as he turned to make his way back out of the warren of passages, but Keith did not seem to hear.

 

* * *

       Needless to say, he had a difficult time with his lessons the following day.  
       Mr. Maccom gave up on lecturing him after Millard missed three instructions in a row, and sent him to his bending lesson with the threat of extra homework hanging over his head if he did not start paying better attention.

       His bending lesson was worse than usual, his flames wild and erratic. He would have burned a servant walking at the edge of the courtyard had his teacher not seen what was about to happen and intervened  
       That close call left Millard shaking at the thought of what he had almost done.

       The truth was, Millard just couldn’t focus.

     He had read some of his old storybooks again the previous night, lingering on the descriptions of heroes and their actions, contemplating why Keith was locked up.

       It made no sense to him. Keith had stopped a lot of people from getting hurt. Why was he getting hurt because of that? Why was his fire being suppressed?

       After his narrow miss, his bending teacher decided to release Millard early, and the young Galra decided to clear his head with a walk around the palace. It was a quiet walk, but he greeted the few servants who passed him, still feeling guilty for what he had almost done.  
       Their responses were timid, nervous even, and he frowned. He hadn’t expected that story to spread around the compound so quickly. Or had it?

       He wandered around for awhile among the plants and ponds in the courtyards, but it soon became clear that this problem wasn’t going away. His thoughts still a muddle of confusion, he leaned against a wall, watching as people went about their business.  
       He slid down to the ground, placing his forehead against the top of his knees with a heavy sigh.

     Why would someone try to force Keith into hurting other humans in the first place? And why is he in trouble for refusing?

       He stood up and pushed off the wall to continue his walk, retracing his steps to the hallway that led out of the gardens and back into the training grounds.

    His thoughts continued to swirl wildly, but no answer came to his mind.

       He came to a decision. He was going to go see Keith again.

       Something was different about him. He wasn’t afraid, just sad. He was angry too, but he kept it in. Something was just different about him, something that made Millard curious to know more. On top of that, he was faced with another new thought. As he went over his interaction with Keith again, he realized that even the way Keith had treated him had felt different.

 

       Millard firmly nodded his head. He walked faster, heading towards his room. This time he wanted to make a plan and be sure he had everything he might need before heading back into the warren of vents.

 

* * *

 

 

       That night Millard embarked on his second trip into the tunnels.

 

       He waited until the sounds of the compound faded to a comfortable quiet, then gathered his materials.  
This time he tied his crystal lamp onto a string around his neck, freeing his hands to hold a piece of chalk in order to mark the tunnels. He was determined not get lost this time. He also brought a small bag with a few supplies, just in case. He climbed under his bed after arranging a very convincing pillow dummy under his blankets, carefully pulling the grate away from its place on the vent.

       He pulled his bag along behind him as he began to crawl, holding out his hand to leave a chalk line on the wall as he went. He crawled through what felt like miles of metal tubing, but eventually he reached a crossroads that looked vaguely familiar, and as he followed it along, found himself back at what he was decently sure was Keith’s cell.

       He listened for a moment, and heard only gentle breathing from the room below. Satisfied that Keith was asleep, he reached over to unclasp the grate from its place on the wall.  
       As the first clip clicked open, he thought he heard something move in the cell below him. He froze, listening, but again could only discern the sounds of sleep. He quickly undid the rest of the fasteners and pulled the grate into the tunnel beside him, careful to set it beside him with as little noise as possible.

       He held his light out in front of him, his hand cupped over it to soften its glow, and saw Keith staring up at him from the bed fastened to the wall on the other side of the room.  
       “Oh. Um. Hi?” Millard said, not sure what to do.

       “What are you doing here again?” Keith asked him, “I thought you would be eager to stay away from a criminal like me.”

       Millard silently let himself down over the edge of the vent and dropped to the floor. He turned around, making a sheepish face at Keith.  
       “I came to ask if, uh, if you would tell me more about you.”

       Keith gripped the edge of his bed, his knuckles paleing. He muttered something under his breath, then fixed Millard with a dark look and said, “So they sent you to get information out of me, huh? Did they decide their ‘motivations’ weren’t enough?”  
       Millard was taken by surprise at the venom in Keith’s eyes and voice.

       “N-no!” He stammered out, “no one sent me! I just… The last time I was here you said that someone tried to make you hurt people. And I, I don’t understand. Why would someone do that? Why are you being punished? It sounds like one of the tests the hero goes through in all my stories, but this isn’t how it's supposed to go!”

       Millard felt tears start to flow as all of his pent up confusion and frustration from the day, his swirling nagging thoughts, his near miss that had left him shaking, finally burst out of him. He sank down the wall, covering his eyes with his hands as he started to shake. The room dimmed as he curled into himself, covering the lamp around his neck.

       Keith looked on, shocked. Whatever he had been expecting when he heard that noise in the vents, it hadn’t been this, this emotional, innocent child.

       He slowly got up and walked over to the ball of fur and tears against the wall and laid a hand gently on the boy’s head.  
Millard started, but let the hand stay as he started to get a grip on himself again.

       “I really didn’t t-tell anyone,” he sniffled.

       “I believe you,” Keith said, pulling away, “but why did you come back? I think it's pretty obvious that you could get in trouble for being here.”

       Millard was about to respond when a heavy stamp of boots was heard in the hall outside of the cell. The next thing he knew, he was being flung into the bed and covered with the single blanket. Keith hurriedly put his finger over his lips to indicate that Millard should stay silent, then Keith positioned himself between the bundle on the bed and the door.

       The slit on the door slid open with a loud bang.  
       A pair of yellow eyes peered into the cell, followed by an irate voice.  
       “Quiet down in there.”

       Keith bobbed his head in an outwardly submissive motion, but his fist clenched in barely restrained frustration at his situation.

       The door-slit banged shut, and Millard choked back a burst of panicked laughter. He had been sure he was going to get caught, and he had no idea what kind of punishment he’d get for talking to a criminal.  
       Keith stood up and walked to the door, listening attentively until he was sure that the guard had moved on and was out of earshot.  
       He turned around to look at Millard again, a sharp look in his eye.

       “I’m going to ask again, why are you here? This is dangerous for both of us.” Millard looked down, suddenly feeling foolish.

       “I-I was confused earlier. I don’t get why you’re being locked up. You wanted to help people, right? Why is that a bad thing?”

       Keith studied him critically for a moment, then sat down again with a sigh and said, “Some people are just cruel. They like to see other people hurt, because it makes them feel strong.”

       “But you don’t. Do you protect people?"

       “Yeah. I guess so.” Keith responded.

       “What’s it like, helping people?” Millard asked. “Do they like you? Are they happy?”

       Keith looked back at him with confusion evident in his eyes. “I don’t… really know. I don’t fight from the front. I help stop groups of criminals by disrupting how they work. People don’t really see what I do.”

       “Oh. Do you work with anyone else?"

       A frown creased the edge of Keith’s mouth.

       “Sometimes,” he answered reluctantly. It was clear that he didn’t want to talk about it.

       Millard still didn’t understand why Keith was locked up really, but he was starting to like him. This human wasn’t a criminal. Maybe the soldiers who ran the compound just didn’t understand what Keith had been doing.  
       Keith seemed to be sinking back into the state of depression that he had been in when Millard had first met him, and Millard decided that maybe he should talk about something else.

       “What are cities like?” Millard asked.

       “What do you mean? Haven’t you been out to one before?” Keith asked, perplexed.  
       Millard shook his head. “Uh-uh. They never let me go outside the compound. They say it's ‘too dangerous’ and that I need to focus on studying and training my firebending. But I’ve read about cities in books. Are there really lots of different people in them all the time?"

       Keith gathered his thoughts for a moment, then started to answer Millard’s questions.  
       “Cities are really busy. There are people everywhere, and they are all different kinds, from lots of different places. It's loud and bright and exciting, with buildings all around.”

       Millard's eyes shone. “That sounds amazing!”

       “It can be. Sometimes it's overwhelming. There’s so much to see- and the smells! There are people selling food from lots of different places, and-”  
       Keith cut off as his stomach growled loudly at the mention of food.  
       He hugged his middle and winced.

       “Are you hungry?” Millard asked. “Did they feed you?”

       Keith shook his head no. “That’s one of their _incentives_ to get me to tell them secrets. They think they can break me like that. They won’t. I won’t let them!”  
Millard looked at Keith and saw a new fire in his eyes. Whatever Keith knew, he was determined not to tell it.

       “Oh! Wait a minute! I have something for you, hold on.”  
Millard jumped up and ran across the room to the wall, jumping for the vent. Naturally, he missed again.  
       He slid to the floor, embarrassed. He looked back at Keith, who looked amused, but stood up and came over to help him out. He made a step out of his hands for Millard like he had before, and Millard was able to reach the knapsack he’d left in the chute on his way in.

       He hopped down and scurried over to the bed again, hastily pulling things out.

       “Let’s see, pen, nope. Teddy bear? Nope. Book? Nope. Oh, here it is!”  
He triumphantly pulled a small bag of dried fruit from the bottom of his bag.  
       “I was worried about getting lost again, so I brought some food. But I think you need it more.”

       He pushed it into Keith’s hands while Keith sputtered, stunned.  
       “If they aren’t going to feed you, I will.”

       Keith’s eyes flickered from Millard’s eager expression to the bag in his hands, unwilling to so quickly trust the small boy who had come to see him.  
Then his stomach growled again and his wavering resolve was gone.  
       He attacked the bag of fruit, hurriedly swallowing it down with manic fervor as Millard looked on, wide eyed at the speed at which the bag was emptying.  
The food was quickly gone, and Keith sat back against the wall, feeling more full than he had in days.

       “Wha- hu- gah-. You must have been really hungry, huh?” Millard asked.  
       Keith nodded.

       Millard rifled through his bag again, this time looking for his ticker. He jumped to his feet when he found it, startled into action.  
       “Quiznak! I’ve got to get back to my room. Help me up please?” He looked plaintively at Keith, who had started feeling drowsy after eating so quickly.  
Keith ambled to his feet and made his way over to the wall, clumsily forming Millard’s step again.

       Millard tossed his bag into the vent carefully and scrambled up, careful not to kick Keith in the face. He turned around to replace the vent and found that Keith had already returned to the bed and was drifting off to sleep.

       He called over to him. “Hey, was that enough food for you?” Keith’s eyes fluttered back open, and his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment. Then comprehension dawned on his face and he shook his head, calling back a sleepy “No.”  
       “Alright. I’ll just have to bring more next time."

       Through his daze, Keith heard the words and a smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.

 

       “Next time.”

 

* * *

Transcript of a telegraph message, received at 1600 hours on [REDACTED]

  
      _Whatever he wants, Haxus. Those were my orders. Keep him safe, make him strong, and give him anything he wants.  
If you desire to maintain your position, you will do as I command._

        _Let him learn about his enemies._  
    _Perhaps he will find the information useful._

 


	2. The Escape

 

 

> As I lay here in the dark, between these prison walls  
>  I would think about you, and my tears would fall
> 
> You were the sun that shines, an encouraging thought...
> 
> _-Only Memories,_ Angela Pliant

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

 

### The Escape

 

     Millard came again the next night. And the next. And the next. He came every night that he could sneak away, and he brought as much food as he was able to hide in his bag.  
His teachers were somewhat concerned with how much he was supposedly eating, but they decided perhaps it would help him grow. As a result, no one challenged him on it.

 

     Keith continued to defy his captors, which gave himself hope, but it distressed Millard every time he saw the bruises soldiers had inflicted.  
The wounds never lasted long, but there were new ones every day.

     This continued for a week. Millard would visit Keith every night for a couple of hours, then return to his room to avoid being caught by the guards.

     The food he brought kept Keith in good spirits, and as the week went on Keith opened up to Millard more and more, telling him stories about his experiences in the outside world.  
Between their talks and Millard’s constant supply of food, they soon became friends. Friends? Millard wondered to himself. I guess we are.  
That night he decided to ask Keith directly.

     “Keith, are we friends?”

     Keith, who was in the middle of eating the food Millard had brought for him that night, choked a little at the question.

     “Of course we are.” He answered, chuckling. “Why wouldn't we be?” His eyes twinkled with amusement until he saw Millard’s drooping ears and sad demeanor.

     The laughter died in his throat as Millard drew his knees up to his chest and mumbled something into his legs.  
     “What?” Keith asked, unable to hear what Millard had said.

     “I said, you didn’t have to laugh,” came Millard’s muffled reply. “I’ve never had a friend before. I- I just wanted to make sure.”

     Keith’s eyes widened in surprise at this new insight into Millard’s life. _No wonder he’s been so eager to spend time with me._  
     “You have to have some friends,” Keith retorted.

     “Oh sure,” Millard returned sadly. “All the servants’ kids. They aren’t my friends. They’re all afraid of me. They do whatever I want to do. They always make me pick, even when I want them to choose.”

     Keith leaned over to pull Millard into a sidelong hug, smoothing down the fur of Millard’s ears as he did.  
“They were always so afraid,” Millard sniffled. “Are you afraid of me?” He looked up plaintively, searching Keith’s face for any sign of fear or rejection.

     Instead Keith’s face broke into a soft smile.  
“Nah,” he said, “you’re too fuzzy to be afraid of.” He ruffled the fur on Millard’s head as the boy giggled, hugging Keith tightly around the waist.

 

     And a huge smile cracked Keith’s face wide open.

 

* * *

 

  
     Millard took a walk the next day after his bending lesson. He was making good progress. He had recovered from the shock of his near-miss the week before and was beginning to regain control of his flames. He wandered around the gardens, enjoying the trees bursting with vibrantly white flowers. He followed the curve of one of the decorative ponds, watching the fish swim lazily beneath the surface.  
Eventually he reached the end of the courtyard and moved into the hallway to move into the next open area. When he reached the end of the corridor he could only stop and stare.

 

     The area that he had just entered looked like a war zone.

 

     The trees that had once grown proudly around the edges of the courtyard were scorched skeletons, and the paved pathways were blackened and scarred by what must have been intense heat. All of the damage seemed to radiate from one point, and while it all looked bad, it appeared to be fallout from a concentrated attack on a melted dome of metal that sat in a crater in the ground at the edge of the courtyard.

     The panels of the bud-shaped contraption were deformed and looked like they had slipped out of place under the onslaught.  
Most of the panels had been fused together due to the immense heat, but a sickly purple glow leaked out of the gaps between them.  
The tower that it had sat on was bent and twisted, obviously deformed under a wave of immense heat.

     Millard gaped at it all. Had _Keith_ done this? Was this the reason for that rumble before the secondary suppressors were activated the day Keith was brought in?  
It made no sense. How could Keith have been able to do this much bending under the effects of the first level suppressors?

     There were workers moving throughout the pavilion, moving tools and materials, obviously repairing the area. Millard watched them go about their business, still floored.

     He had to ask Keith about this now.

 

* * *

 

 

     But of course he had to wait.

     There was no way he could sneak away to Keith’s cell in the middle of the day, but even as the day wore on his awe did not diminish.

     When he finally climbed out of the vent that night, he was bursting with questions.

     Keith barely had time to greet him before Millard was bombarding him with inquiries.  
“How did you do that?!?” Millard exclaimed excitedly.  
“Do what?” Keith asked, bewildered and slightly overwhelmed.  
“Firebend like that!”  
“Like _what_?” Keith got his hands on Millard’s shoulders to keep him from jumping up and down.  
“Oh, right. In the courtyard! That was you, right? Everything was burnt or melted. How were you able to bend with the suppressors on? How did you make your fire so hot?”

     Millard finally paused for breath, allowing Keith a moment to process his queries.  
“Hold on for a second and let me think.” Keith said exasperatedly. “Yes, that was me.”

     Millard bounced excitedly. “I knew it!”

     “As for the second question, I don’t know. The suppressor came on and I panicked. My brain stopped thinking, I was blasting fire at the thing that was making me feel sick, hoping it would stop.”  
Millard’s ears perked up at that. Keith felt sick while the suppressors were on too?!  
He’d have to ask about that later. For now he was still too excited about Keith’s bending prowess.

     “As for the third question, I don’t know the answer to that either. Usually it doesn’t burn that hot unless I’m really focusing. I guess it happens when I go into instinct mode too.”  
He clenched one hand and looked at it, wondering himself how he’d managed to do so much damage even as he was being cut off from his ability.

     “Can you teach me?” Millard asked Keith as he hopped up onto the bed. “How to bend like that? I still can’t control my fire very well, but even when you were panicking you knew where it was going.”  
“It’s not that simple.” Keith sighed. “I can’t teach you anything really practical in here.” He pointed to the suppressor in the ceiling. “Believe me, I’ve tried to bend already. It doesn’t work.”  
Millard frowned. “But you could show me the motions or something?” He asked, voice full of hope.

     “And what happens when your teacher sees you practicing them and asks where you saw them?” Keith retorted. “My teaching you moves would just make it more dangerous for both of us.”  
Millard bit his lip in disappointment. There had to be something that Keith could teach him that would help.

     “How- how do you keep your fire going where you want it to go?” He questioned.

     Keith sighed. “Alright. That's safe enough for me to teach you I guess.”

     He stood up and motioned for Millard to do the same.  
“Alright, you know this move, right?” Keith fell into a basic horse-stance and punched forward.  
Had the suppressor not been present, the punch would have ejected a blast of flame, but as it was, nothing happened.

     Millard nodded eagerly, very interested in what Keith was saying. He fell into the same stance and copied the motion.  
“Alright then. If you want to keep your fire going where you want it, try this. Imagine a path that you want your fire to follow. See it in your head. Follow it with your eyes and imagine what the fire will look like in that space. Then follow through with the movement and release the fire from your hands.”

     Millard nodded solemnly, and followed Keith’s instructions. He imagined the fire arcing from his hands and across the room, his small fist flying out, fully expecting a gout of flame to follow his imagined trajectory.

     Nothing happened of course. Millard lowered his hand sheepishly, looking over to see Keith shaking in silent laughter. He pouted as Keith regained control and tousled his hair.  
“That looked good. Your form was excellent and you looked really focused.” Keith swallowed back another laugh. “Try that during your bending lessons.”

     And so Millard had. He began to rapidly improve, his fire becoming more and more precise. The only downside was that his fire seemed to blink out of existence faster each day, but he reasoned that it might just be in his imagination.

     More time passed. Keith continued to stay strong against the questioners, but he soon became powerless against Millard. He caved and began to teach him some firebending moves of his own design. They were much more freeform than the rigorous movements that Millard learned normally, but they came to him easily. Millard was always careful to never use them during his official lessons, but he used some of his free time to practice.

     One night Millard arrived while Keith was still asleep. Millard’s eyes widened in concern as Keith writhed on the small bed, mouth moving in a frenzy, sounds of _no_ , and, _please, not him_ , falling from Keith’s lips. Millard heard a name repeated several times, _Lance_ , and then with a piercing cry Keith rolled out of bed and crumpled to his knees on the floor.

     Millard sat quietly, waiting until Keith had calmed down before scraping the vent to make his presence known, entering with a smile and with food, determined not to let Keith know what he had seen.

 

* * *

 

     Besides Keith’s obvious internal scars, everything was going right in Millard’s world. He was learning to control his fire, and he had a friend. His teachers were pleased with his progress, and so he suffered less extra homework from his tyrannical tutor.

     Until one night two weeks later when Millard startled awake in the middle of the night. He sat up and checked his ticker. It wasn’t time to visit Keith yet, but he guessed that he could probably get away with going earlier on this night.

     He packed his bag, looped his lantern over his neck, and moved once again to the vent under his bed. On the way there, his leg bumped into his photo album, which lay forgotten among the clutter. After a moment’s hesitation, he slid the book into his pack, not wanting to forget about it again.

     He slid into the passageways and began to make his way to Keith’s cell, the way now familiar to him. His chalk line was nearly faded now, but he had memorized the way, and the thought brought a smile to his face.

 

     And that was when a horrible screeching noise shrieked through the compound.

 

     Millard started in the vents, jumping up and banging his head on the low ceiling.

     “What was that?” he exclaimed as the base came to life around him. A lone siren began to wail before cutting off abruptly with a harsh metallic clang as voices woke with clamor all around him.  
Millard hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to go.

     With what clearly was an attack on the base his teachers would come looking for him. He turned and swiftly started to head back up the passages to his room. That is, until the section in front of him crumpled like a stomped can.

     Millard back-pedaled away from the pressed together section of metal, and high-tailed it back down the tunnel towards Keith’s cell.

      _Guess I’m not going that way_ , he thought belatedly to himself.

     He had gone around several bends in the tunnels before he heard another section implode behind him. He looked back and had to fight back a wave of panic. The metal looked like it had been squeezed by a giant hand.  
He swallowed and kept going. He didn’t hear any more sections of vent collapsed, but in the absence of that sound others filled in the gaps.  
     Soldiers shouted, the calls cutting off with choked shouts.

     He heard a strange snapping noise several times, always followed by screams of anguish.  
And underneath it all was the sound of twisting metal.

     The tunnels weren’t collapsing behind him anymore, but there was constant scrape of metal on metal and the occasional shriek of protesting matter as walls and frame work were ripped apart.

 

     As he moved, the sounds faded behind him, until the vents lurched in one final shudder before falling silent.  
Millard moved forward again, cautious. He turned the final corner and found that the grate leading to the cell had been removed already, and from the look of the edges of the passage, removed violently.  
He turned around and began to move closer to the edge of the torn metal, careful not to cut himself on its jagged edges, awkwardly clambering backwards into the room with a greeting and a question for Keith forming on his lips until he turned around.

 

     His words died in his throat.

 

     Keith was locked in the embrace of a tall silver haired woman, his face buried in her neck as they squeezed each other tightly. A man in black clothing with metal plates covering his arms rested his hand on Keith’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.  
Millard felt like he was intruding on something private. Keith and the man in black’s backs were turned towards him. They people had obviously come for Keith; they had accomplished their goal and would surely be taking him and getting out of this place.  
Suddenly comprehension dawned. In his mind’s eye Millard snapped open his photo album to the clearest shot he had of his heroes.

     An enormous grin spread across his face. “I knew it! I knew you were one of the Paladins!” he blurted out. He immediately slapped his hands over his mouth, bag falling to the floor, forgotten.  
The woman’s- no, Allura’s eyes snapped open and she wrenched Keith around behind her protectively as the man in black- no, quiznaking Takashi Shirogane snapped around, one of the plates of his armor detaching and flying at Millard with a flick of his wrist.

     Millard threw himself to the side, barely avoiding the blade that would have taken him in the throat. Instead it bit deep into the wall next to him, catching on his shirt and pinning him in place. With another snap of the wrist a second plate was on its way through the air.

     Millard eyes widened as it flew towards his face, impossibly fast- until it stopped a hair’s breadth from his eye at a wild cry from Keith.

     “No!”

     Shiro halted in confusion, staring at Millard, hesitating between his respect for Keith and the urge to finish out his motion.  
“Why.” Shiro’s ground out the word, barely constrained anger in his tone.

     Allura had regathered her bow and had an arrow nocked and trained on Millard.

     Keith tugged at Shiro’s shirt, drawing him out into the hall. Shiro, seeing that Allura was watching the child that had dropped into their reunion, sent the blade hovering before Millard deep into the wall beside him, and followed Keith out of the room after casting a cold look in Millard’s direction.

     Millard strained to hear what they were saying, their voices hushed but passionate. Shiro’s voice rose loud enough to hear- “He’s one of them,” -before Keith’s quiet tone interrupted him.  
Allura’s grip on the bow did not lessen. Millard wondered how she was able to hold it taut for so long, the weapon was enormous.

     His mind was racing. His heroes were right there. In the flesh. And… Millards brain short-circuited a little. They had just tried to kill him. Without hesitation, that blade had been on its way to his throat, and were it not for Keith, he would be dead.  
Millard started to shake, his ears flattening down on his head as he struggled to hold back tears.

     Allura would have the final say in whether Millard lived or died, but he couldn’t see any softness in her face or in her eyes. He folded in on himself a little, tears welling at the corners of his eyes.  
He was scared. Truly and fully afraid. Keith wasn’t here to cuddle into, Allura was as cold as steel. And Shiro wanted him dead. Millard wanted nothing more than to curl up in his nest under his bed, where this whole chain of events had begun.  
He closed his eyes as the tears started to spill over, and suddenly Keith was there, placing himself between Allura’s bow and Millard.

     Keith plucked out the metal shard holding Millard to the wall as the boy sobbed and threw his arms around Keith’s neck, scared out of his mind.  
Keith held him tight, gripping tightly enough to pick up the little child. Millard wrapped himself around Keith, tears drying into quiet sniffles as he settled into the human’s embrace.

     “It's ok. Everything's going to be alright, Millard.” Keith said, frowning over Millard’s shoulder at Shiro. Shiro’s gaze hardened at the purple smudge currently wrapped in Keith’s arms, unapologetic.

Allura had been strangely silent, observing their actions calmly. Now however, the sight of Keith’s protective posture began to draw her lips into a smile.  
Millard’s fear ebbed away as Keith held him, his sniffles fading into quiet huffing noises as he regained control of his emotions. Keith gently set him back on the ground, still holding Millard’s hand. The boy had stopped crying, but his ears were still back. While he was no longer terrified, it was clear that he still didn’t feel safe.

     Allura cocked her head at the pair of them. “Keith, who is this?” she asked.  
Her face was serious, but her tone was light and inquisitive. Shiro’s frown deepened as she spoke, his gaze burning holes into Millard’s head.  
Keith nudged Millard gently with their entwined hands, prompting him to speak.

     “I- I’m- my name is- M-millard.” Millard finally got out, his voice still shaky from meeting his heroes and nearly dying by their hands all within a span of a few minutes.

     “It nice to meet you, Millard. I am Allura, and this is Shiro.” She waved a hand at him. “And I see you’ve already met Keith.”

     Millard nodded nervously. “I- I know who you are.”

     Allura’s eyebrow arched inquisitively. “Oh?”

     “Yeah. Y-you’re the leader of- of the Paladins.”

     “And how do you know that name?” asked Allura. Beside her, Shiro had stiffened when the word _paladins_ had dropped from Millard’s lips.

     “Um, I- I collect stories and pictures of the missions you guys do…” Millard’s head dropped in embarrassment. “You guys do so many amazing things, fighting, protecting people. You- you guys are my heroes. Everyone here just cares about being strong and winning fights. Even this!” His head snapped up, his eyes shining with rekindled enthusiasm. “You broke into a place full of soldiers just to get Keith back! You guys are the greatest. No one would do anything like that for me.”

     Allura regarded him for a moment. Then Shiro stepped forward. “Why were you coming to see Keith? Shouldn’t you have been with the other Galra?” The man spat out the words. It was clear he didn’t like Millard, didn’t trust Millard.

     The boy in question looked at Shiro in an evident state of confusion. “I come to see him every night at this time. He’s my friend.” He looked up at Keith plaintively. “Right?”  
Keith nodded and gave Millard’s hand an encouraging squeeze before he looked at Allura and said, “He’s been keeping me alive and sane the whole time I’ve been captured. He’s not like them, Shiro.”

     Shiro looked decidedly unconvinced. He crossed his arms over his chest, settling back into a frustrated position. Allura opened her mouth to speak when they were interrupted by coarse shouts and the pounding of armored boots in the corridor outside.

     Shiro and Allura whirled into action as Keith rushed Millard back toward the wall, telling him to close his eyes and covering Millard’s oversized ears.  
Millard could hear a hint of a twang and a muffled crunk. The first he recognized as the snap of a bowstring, and with that thought, he refused to consider what the second sound could be.  
The sounds soon ceased, and Shiro and Allura reappeared at the doorway, looking decidedly more agitated than before.

     “We need to go.” Shiro said, and Allura nodded in agreement. “We’ve spent too long here.”  
Keith gave Millard one more glance before he moved towards them, leaving Millard crouched against the wall.

     “Wait!” He called out, grabbing his bag and scrambling after Keith. “C- can I please come with you?”

     Shiro froze in the doorway and a growled “No,” left his mouth. Keith and Allura turned to Millard, looking perplexed. “Why?” asked Allura.

     Millard shuffled, twisting the fabric of the knapsack in his hands. “I, um, well…” He floundered. “You guys are my heros!” he exclaimed, looking down in embarrassment. “This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me. Besides. Keith is my best friend.”

     Millard looked forlorn, standing there in the dim room, eyes towards the floor. Keith’s chest twisted uncomfortably. Allura looked mildly concerned, and Shiro still hadn’t turned from his place in the doorway, hand clenching ever tighter on the metal.  
Keith looked back to Allura. “We can’t just leave him here. If they find him in a prisoner’s cell…”

     Allura contemplated the situation for a moment. “Very well. All right Millard, you will come with us. Let’s all of us go before it's too late.”

     “Keith.” Shiro ground out the name with a voice now devoid of emotion. “He’s your responsibility. You keep him covered. Because I won’t.”

     With that, a new wave of boots could be heard echoing through the corridors. Keith quickly moved over to Millard, kneeling in front of him with a reassuring smile.  
“Ready?” he asked. Millard nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulders and onto his back. “Alright. Stay with me, ok?”

     They moved to the door. Keith took care to block Millard’s line of sight down the hall. The boy didn’t need to see the purple blood slicked on the walls, bodies broken and crushed in their armor, feathered shafts protruding from exposed flesh.  
They ran through halls, listening around corners to avoid more run-ins with soldiers, looking for an exit. Millard spoke up and gave directions, which Shiro and Allura grudgingly followed. To their obvious surprise, Millard’s guidance led them to a small courtyard, on the other side of which rested an unguarded wall-gate, no larger than an average door.

     Shiro led the way hastily, eager to be out of this hole of a base. Suddenly something flared bright in the corner of his vision. He began to turn in order to choose a course of action when suddenly Keith was there, hands raised and palms canted, redirecting the blast of fire in a safer direction. Quicker than Shiro could blink Keith returned fire, his movements clumsy due to his incarceration.

     A scream of pain bespoke his nonetheless deadly accuracy, and no more projectiles were hurled in their direction.  
The group hurried to the gate. They found it locked. “Stand back.” Shiro said as he stepped into a solid stance,. He thrust his hands out and down and the hinges snapped off completely. He pulled his hands towards him in a sharp twist with his fingers curled into loose fists, and the door fell in as though it had been shoved from the outside.

     Millard gaped a little. That door had been solid iron, yet Shiro moved it like it was nothing.

     Suddenly shouts could be heard in the courtyard behind them. Keith whipped around just in time to dissipate another fireball streaking towards them as more soldiers poured out of the buildings.  
He turned back, shouting an urgent “Go!” and the small group of escapees rushed out of the gate and into the wide world beyond.

     They streaked across the clearing around the compound, heading for the safety of the trees beyond the exposed ring.  
Millard looked back and for the first time saw the the outside of his home.

     Stark walls of stone punctuated with wooden support structures dominated his vision, starkly different from the cultured and refined gardens and training grounds inside.

      _Everything I’ve known has been a lie_. Millard realized, shaken to his core.

     He ran faster, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes, into a new world, uncertain and unsure, but full of hope.

 

     They reached the edge of the forest and ran straight in, the undergrowth swallowing them up in a sea of green.

 

* * *

      Telegram Transcript from Rebellion Archives: Series of reports received from Resistance agents in Krell.

_Mission Report: Assault on Galra transport enroute to Krell._

  * _Status: Success. All resources secured from Galra shipment redirected to resistance agents._
  * _C_ _asualties: 3 combat assets dead, Red Paladin captured._



_Nalo-Jui assets dispatched to attempt rescue. Secondary directive is to report location of incarceration._

     ...

_Rescue Mission failed._

_Location of lockup secured. Prison coordinates are as follows: [REDACTED]_

_Awaiting further orders._

_..._

Response from Resistance Headquarters:

_Voltron Squad dispatched from HQ._

_ We'll take it from here._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot begins! 
> 
> Keep track of the details, guys! Why does Shiro hate the Galra so much? How did Keith overcome the suppressors?  
> These might be important later!
> 
> Feel free to chat with us @DriftingFarandWide or @CinnamonEcho on tumblr!  
> You can also find me @ProneTaDrift on Twitter!


	3. Earth and Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, and we get a little bit of backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has kept reading!
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated.  
> Tell us what you think!

 

 

 

> The ground threatens to swallow me, it trembles and it shakes.  
>  You can't run from shadows, or amend all your life mistakes.
> 
> _-Earthquake,_ Awesome Annie

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

### Earth and Ashes

 

       Millard awoke in the middle of the night to find Shiro absent from the camp they had set up the preceding evening.

       The previous afternoon, they had reached a stash of supplies that Shiro and Allura had hidden away before assaulting the base, among them enough sleeping rolls and bags for all of the humans.  
       Millard's unexpected presence had not been a great hindrance, as they had brought an additional sleeping bag as a precaution, in case Keith had been ill or injured and required extra care.

       As a result, Millard had gone to sleep wrapped in warm cloth on the hard ground, spaced between Allura and Keith. It was uncomfortable at first, as he was used to the soft plush of his own large bed, but he managed to drift off after much tossing and turning.

 

       Shiro had remained awake to take the first watch.

 

       As he looked around he could see that Allura was also awake, sitting by the dying embers of the fire Keith had sparked with some sort of dark earthy substance Shiro had produced from their foreplaced cache of supplies.  
He sat up carefully, wincing as his sore body protested its stay on the ground. Keith slept blissfully on, slumbering deeper than he had in a fortnight. Allura must have gotten up to take her round of watch. But… if that was true, then why wasn’t Shiro sleeping?

       Millard stood clumsily and ambled over to the fire-pit, rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes and fighting back a yawn.  
She acknowledged his presence with a glance in his direction, but remained silent, staring into the flickering embers of the fire.

       Millard spoke up. “Allura?”

       She waited a moment, then said “Yes?” in a voice filled with exhaustion and edged in despair.

       “W-where is Shiro?”

       Allura broke away from the fire, giving Millard a smile that did not reach her eyes.  
“He’s out on watch, making sure that we weren’t followed.”

       Millard could see through her act, but let her answer stand. There was obviously something happening here that he was not intended to know about.  
They sat in silence again before Allura stood, brushing a few flakes of ash from her clothes before offering an elegant hand to Millard.

       “Come now. Let's get you back to sleep. We’ve got a long way to travel tomorrow.”  
Allura led Millard back to his bedroll, tucking him in gently.

       She rubbed his back as he began to drift off, humming the first few lines of a lullaby that had helped her sleep as a child.  
Millard quieted, soothed by her touch and her song. He whispered a soft, “Thank you Allura,” before his breathing fell into a regular pattern and he was asleep. Allura sat back on her heels for a moment.

       A flutter ran through the forest floor, and Millard stirred again. Allura resumed her gentle massage of the boy’s back, quieting him before turning in the direction of Millard’s old home, deeply troubled.

 

* * *

 

 

       Far away in the forest a lone man made his way around trees and through the underbrush, heading towards a walled compound towering over the canopy. His mind raced, memories and emotions tumbling over one another in a melting pot of rage and fury. They had called him _Champion_ , had watched and cheered as he cut down others like him, confined to the horrors of the arena.

       They had not cheered when his attentions had shifted from inside the arena to out. The stadium had run purple with Galra blood that day, stained like their souls.  
That day he had been free, and he had zealously hunted the ones who escaped, pursuing their destruction.

       Shiro stopped at the edge of the clearing. Fires blazed inside the compound and he could hear troops gearing up for a search of the woods, the stamp of boots on stone and clamor of armored troops milling about in the courtyards.  
       His mouth twisted in a feral grin.

 

_Good._

 

       They were still here. A small corner of his mind resisted, telling him that there were others here, innocents.

       But the acrid smell of flames brought on a new wave of memories, and he shuddered, the voices of doubt falling quiet below the screams that echoed through his memories.

 

       Shiro had grilled Millard for information once they were safely away from the base; troop numbers, weak points, and most importantly, the name of their commanding officer. Haxus was a name he knew only by reputation, a leader who ruled by cunning and fear rather than physical might.

       Shiro slammed his foot against the ground, eyes closed, shockwaves visible only to him rumbling through the ground. His foot stamped again as he established vision and control.

 

      _Two can play that kind of game._

 

       With careful movements he prodded at things unseen below the earth, pushing and pulling, shoring up and shearing away, until all was as he needed it to be.  
His task complete, he pulled his awareness back into himself and listened once more to the chaos unfolding within the compound.

       He nodded once, bracing himself against the ground, one leg back, both arms curved against his sides.  
Then, with a grunt of exertion, he pushed, slotting everything into place, unsettling the the delicate balance he had created underneath the walls of the base.

 

       With a groan and a crack, it began to implode.

 

       He could hear screams, hear the terror, the fear, the realization that there would be no escape.  
Grimacing darkly, he compared the sounds to the ones in his memory, and found them to be a satisfactory match.

       And with that, he turned and vanished unseen into the forest as the the edifice behind him collapsed completely into a crater, sending a rumble out into the forest for miles in every direction.

 

* * *

 

 

       A rough, scaled hand clenched tightly around a paper crumpled violently within it.

       The report it had carried spelled the end of his patience.

       He dropped the paper to the ground, placing his hands on the arms of his throne, considering. It was time he changed the rules of the game.

 

       He growled at the guard standing at the foot of his dais.

“It's time we cut off this infection of a resistance. They have seen fit to kill my son. This will not be allowed to go unpunished. Send in battalions 3 and 7. Perhaps Sendak and Moriak can bring some order to this land where Prorok never could.”

       The guard knelt in acknowledgement.

 

       “Vrepit sa. It will be done… Lord Zarkon.”

 

* * *

        Excerpt from the Galra Intelligence file on Takakashi Shirogane A.K.A: Champion

_Takashi Shirogane: Imperial Enemy Rank: 2_

_Abilities: Extremely dangerous and capable Metalbender. Do not underestimate him._

_Weapons: Any nearby metal can and will be used as a projectile weapon. DO NOT attempt to apprehend this subject while wearing metal armor or any form of jewelry. Glass or platinum weapons are a necessity._

_History: Captured at the age of 24, Shirogane was causing mass mayhem with imperial interests in various cities. He was transferred to the arena at the behest of Commander Prorok and made to fight instead of being executed immediately._

_The most capable gladiator seen in years, Shirogane dominated the arena, until on [REDACTED], a Galra noble disobeyed imperial order and wore an set of ornate armor while spectating in the front row of the arena._

_Shirogane ripped the metal off of him and fashioned it into a crude set of weaponry. Due to the precautions against weaponry in the stands, there was little to be done by way of defense._

 

_It was a slaughter._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ominous Zarkon is ominous.
> 
> Feel free to say hi @DriftingFarandWide or @CinnamonEcho on Tumblr!


	4. Lost

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

 

### Lost

 

         The next morning came bright and early.

         Millard sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he took in his surroundings. Unsurprisingly, Allura was already up, as was Keith. Shiro was still missing, but even as Millard watched he walked back into camp from the bushes, retying the drawstring of his pants.

         Keith was going through a sequence of stretches, each movement stopping in a firebending motion, but the movements were so exaggeratedly slow that it was obvious that Keith was not trying to bend.

         Allura was rubbing something into her bowstring as she sat near the fire. She looked up as Millard stirred and said, “Ah, good. You’re awake. It’s almost time for us to be off.”

         Keith moved into one more position, tilted to one side, feet planted firmly on the ground, arms raised in a half circle above his head. When he heard Allura speak, he relaxed back into a standing position, wincing at a sudden pain in his side.

         “Shiro, if you would.” Allura said, putting her bow and string back in its case and standing away from the fire.  
Shiro took a stance and made a pushing motion down and out towards the ground with both hands. The fire pit sank down and Shiro swept his hands back up and together in an arc, the ground closing over the pit seamlessly. There would be not a trace of their camp left by the time they were finished.

         Millard gawked, amazed. He’d never seen an earthbender using their abilities before. He shook off his drowsiness and scrambled to his feet. He very quickly realized that his was the only area not yet cleaned up. He hastily scrunched up his mat and bundled it into his arms, walking over to the rest of the group as they gathered up their supplies.

         Keith looked at him and chuckled, grabbing a length of rope and knife from one of the pouches. He quickly and efficiently measured and cut sections of rope, tying them expertly until he had a little harness rigged up. “Here,” he said, handing the construction to Millard who looked at it, somewhat confused. “Let’s try this.”

         He took the crumpled up bundle out of Millard hands and spread it out on the ground.  
“You roll it up like this.” Keith demonstrated the process to Millard, laughing again when Millard’s eyes grew wide at how small the cloth could be compressed.

         Keith slotted it into one part of the rope contraption and held it up to Millard with the other straps.“It goes on your back,” he explained.

         “Oh!” Millard exclaimed. “That’ll be much easier. Hang on a minute though.” Millard collected his shoulder bag from where he had left it on the ground and tied it too into the new harness. Then Millard slipped on the shoulder straps and Keith tied the last two strands across Millard's chest. Millard proceeded to run in circles around the camp, getting a feel for the weight.

         Even Shiro stopped and cracked a small smile as the boy dashed around the camp in a fit of joy, staring wide-eyed at the trees and plants around them.  
Shiro looked at Keith, laughing aloud, completely taken with the little child, and the seed of worry sitting in his gut grew a little larger.  
         He leaned closer to Allura, who had taken a look at the joyous child and then continued working.

         “I don’t trust him, Allura. Look at how easily he’s twisted Keith around his little finger. This seems dangerous.”

         Allura regarded Millard across the clearing again for a moment before murmuring back to Shiro, “I do not think someone his age could fake such joy, Shiro. Look into his eyes, and I think you will see what I mean. However, rest assured that I am watching his every move. I will not let this resistance fall by the efforts of one child.”

         Placated, Shiro resumed stowing his gear, and the small group was soon ready to depart.

         They set off while the sun was high in the sky, but the thick canopy of broadleaf trees all around them kept the worst of the heat at bay.  
The light filtering down through the leaves illuminated countless flowers, insects, and other animals, who crept stealthily around, vanishing into the undergrowth as the party drew near to them.  
         Millard wandered on ahead, enthralled with it all. He stopped by multicolored flower blooms, by patches of moss inhabited by snails, and most frequently by all the leaves.

         Millard was fascinated by the sheer variety of leaves.

         When Keith asked him why he kept pressing leaves in between empty pages in his book, Millard replied, “All the trees back home were the same. These leaves have so many different shapes and colors, I want to bring some of them with me.”  
Millard was entranced with all the color and beauty around them. He was especially taken with the butterflies. Their multicolored wings and strange fluttering motion drew his eyes to them constantly, and he ran giggling after them.

         He jumped at them with his hands outstretched, but they evaded his attempts to capture them, and Allura and Keith shook their heads at the futility of his antics. Shiro was quiet throughout most of the day, speaking only to softly confer with Allura as to where they were and where the group should stop for the night.

         As the day went on, Millard found himself farther and farther on ahead, and as he went, he found that the less sound he made the more creatures he saw.

         There were some four-footed creatures with dappled brown fur that darted away between the trees when he got too close, and a small spiky creature that curled into a ball before unrolling and trundling away as fast as its little legs would take it.  
A gray creature striped with black and white chased him back to the group until Allura chased it off by hollering loudly.  
         It hissed at them as it trundled back towards its den.

         Eventually Millard caught sight of some sort of bird, with a red strip of flesh on its head. It moved with short jerky motions, and Millard wondered what would happen if he tried to grab it. It didn’t look very fast.  
He snuck up behind it, crawling through the underbrush in an effort to get closer, when he came face to face with another bird. This one had a much smaller strip of red, and even as Millard lunged for the bird, it turned around and threw itself out of the bushes, squawking indignantly.

         The other- no, others, plural, all scattered in different directions, and Millard scrambled to his feet. He quickly spotted the large tail feathers of the one he had seen before and gave chase.  
He vaguely heard voices calling out behind him as his feet pounded the earth, pursuing his quarry.  
         The bird was not slow. It outpaced Millard pretty quickly, and before he knew it, he had lost it's trail.  
Millard took a look at his surroundings and quickly realized that the strange bird wasn’t the only thing he had lost.

         Shiro, Keith, and Allura were nowhere to be seen.

         “Keith?” Millard called out, slightly nervous. “Allura? Hello? Where are you?”

         Only silence returned. The forest seemed to swallow his voice into the moss and leaves, not even a trace of an echo bouncing back.  
Millard started to wander in circles, trying to find them, crying out all the while. There was still no response.

         He started to rationalize what had happened in his head, but it did not make him feel any better.  
“Maybe they heard me and I just can’t hear them calling back through all the trees. Yeah, that's gotta be it. They definitely wouldn’t just leave me behind, right? Right?”

         The boy fought hard to convince himself, sitting himself down at the base of a tree trunk. His lower lip started to tremble as he looked around and realized that everything around him looked the same him.  
The forest creatures continued about their daily routines, ignoring Millard except to dodge around him before they drew too close.

         Millard took a shaky breath before standing up again and walking back into the trees, hoping that he would be lucky enough to pick the correct direction.  
He continued to call out the names of the others, hoping that he would wander close enough for them to hear.

         More time passed, and Millard began to lose track of how long he had been lost. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, and he slumped against a large rock, feeling defeated.  
All of the sudden, the rock behind him seemed to melt, and reformed as a shackle around his arm.

         “Hey,” Millard yelled, startled. “Who’s there?”

         He was answered by silence.

         A few minutes later, Shiro walked out of the depths of the forest, followed by Allura and Keith.

         “There he is,” Shiro said, “I told you I found him.”  
Shiro twisted his wrist and the stone cuff snapped off. Millard flung himself forward into Keith, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle as he wept with joy.

         “I was so sc-scared,” Millard sobbed, “I thought you’d left me behind.”

         “We should’ve,” muttered Shiro darkly.

         Allura looked at him sharply, her features twisting into a slight frown before relaxing again. Keith’s grip on Millard tightened for a moment, though his back was towards Shiro.

         “I won’t ever leave you behind, Millard. Never.” The fierceness in Keith’s voice made Millard feel safe and warm, and he relaxed into the hug, letting go without a fuss when Keith untangled himself and stood up again.  
Allura and Keith scolded him for running off into the forest, and Millard promised to stay nearby from now on.

         With Millard found again, they continued on their way, Shiro grumbling about lost time all the while.  
Eventually Allura hushed him, and while he stopped making grumpy comments, his face continued to look like he had just bitten into something bitter.

         True to his word, Millard stopped racing ahead. He stayed within eyesight at all times, no matter how strongly the sights around them caught his eye.  
However, as the day continued, Millard began to indulge another curiosity of his, and asked Allura and Keith to tell him stories about their missions, where they took place and how the Resistance chose where to strike.  
         The two were reluctant to go in-depth with their answers, but Millard was content even with a simple answer of, “the people needed our help.”  
Millard reveled in the information, becoming more and more excited with every tale, bouncing up and down with excitement.

         As he became more and more energetic, Shiro’s expression grew stormy, darkening with every new piece of information that they shared.  
Eventually Shiro snapped. “Enough!” He yelled, grabbing Millard by the arm. “You don’t need to know any more about us, you bat-eared freak.”  
         He roughly shoved Millard away, the boy’s ears pulling flat against his head and his eyes opening wide in fear.

         Allura’s face contorted in barely constrained rage, and she grabbed Shiro by the arm, hauling him off into the trees.  
Shiro hardly had time to look surprised before he was stumbling along, powerless to stop her.

         Keith moved behind Millard, putting his hands on his shoulders as Shiro was dragged off. He bent down to reassure Millard, but as he breathed in, he nearly choked.  
Yellow flecks surfaced involuntarily in Keith’s eyes as the fear-scent clogged his nose.

         Millard had to be _terrified_ for the smell to be this strong.

         Keith pulled Millard tight again, smoothing down his raised hair.

         “Wh-,” Millard’s voice faltered, “what did I do? Why does he hate me?”

         “He doesn’t hate you,” Keith sighed. “He’s afraid of you. And he’s angry because he’s afraid.”

         “Afraid? Of me?!” Millard exclaimed. “Why?”

         “He’s afraid that you’re going to do something that will take away the people he cares about.” Keith replied.

         “But… why would he think that?”

         Keith looked away before answering.  
“Because it has happened before. But that's his story to tell, when he’s ready. Here, why don’t we practice some fire-bending until they come back?”  
“O-ok.”

 

* * *

  
Allura dragged Shiro through the trees, an angry scowl on her face.

“Hey, Allura, wait,” Shiro began, but Allura was not in the mood.

         When she felt that they had moved far enough into the underbrush she roughly threw Shiro in front of her. He smacked into a tree with a startled “Ouch,” and stood up rubbing his arm gingerly to find Allura with hands on hips, tapping her foot impatiently.

         “What was that?” She demanded, glaring at him.

         “He was asking questions about us,” Shiro exclaimed, defensive. “It’s not safe to give him so much information.”

         “Information that is utterly useless?” Allura responded acidly. “Nothing that Keith or I have told him will be of any use to the Galra, except perhaps to tell them that we have a weakness for small children. I told you, I am watching him carefully, but everything I have seen is telling me that he is who he says he is.” She fell into a more relaxed position.

         “You and I both know that this isn’t about him. This is about what the Galra did to you. While I completely understand your frustration and mistrust, I will remind you that you are not the only one to have lost family to this war, nor is Millard the first Galra to switch sides. You were able to push aside your grudge for the first desertee, so why are you not able to do the same for Millard?”

“Because Keith still looks human!” Shiro exploded, angry and ashamed. “That child is a constant reminder of everything I’ve lost.”

He fell silent, unable to continue, his chin dropping to his chest. When he spoke again, his voice had lowered to a broken whisper.  
“The worst part is, you’re right. He’s innocent, I know that. He had nothing to do with- with- it.”

         Shiro brought his hands to the sides of his head, cringing and crouching down. “But every time I look at him, all I can see are the flames.” A silent shudder wracked his body.  
Allura stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his hunched shoulders.

         He reached up to grab her hand, staying close to the ground, and she squeezed back reassuringly.  
“I know this is hard,” she said, “but please, give Millard a chance. There is much he does not yet understand.”

         Shiro hesitated, but nodded once. “Alright.”

 

* * *

  
         They returned to find Millard sitting on the ground laughing, and Keith brushing himself off with a sour expression on his face that wavered and broke into a smile when he looked at Millard.

         Allura held an arm over Shiro’s chest as they peered through the bushes, keeping him from entering the clearing.  
“See? Look at them. That is not the face of a spy, Shiro. Millard is not here to destroy us.”

         Keith took a stance and proceeded to execute some sort of flip kick.  
Millard’s mouth went slack in awe and he jumped to his feet.

         “Can I try that?”

         “Sure.”

         Shiro wished he could be as confidant of Millard’s innocence as Allura was.  
He shook his head as the boy tried to copy Keith’s movement and landed flat on his back with an “Oof!”

         Keith laughed at that, walking over to help Millard up. “No no, it’s like this.” He performed the same flip again, much to Millard’s dismay.  
Millard puffed up and said, “I’m gonna do it.” He leapt up again- and proceeded to face plant into the ground. Keith gave him a hand up again, but Millards eyes were large and watery.  
         “Aw c’mon, it just means you need more practice. Let's try-” Keith cut off as Shiro and Allura emerged from the bushes behind Millard. Millard followed his gaze, squeaked, and scrambled to hide behind Keith.

         “It's alright Millard,” Allura said, “Shiro has something to say to you.”

         Millard stayed where he was, peering shyly out from behind Keith as Shiro stepped forward. “I’m sorry I grabbed you earlier,” Shiro apologized, kneeling down a few steps away so that he was at Millard’s eye level. “You have every right to ask questions, and I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

         “Th- that’s alright,” Millard said, still looking a bit nervous. Keith’s nostrils flared and the yellow started to surface again as he struggled to control himself.  
Shiro looked up at him for support, but Keith just glared at him.

         Shiro stood nervously and looked at the sky. The sun had dipped towards the horizon and the sky was lit up in a myriad of sunset colors.

         “There’s a clearing up ahead,” Shiro said. “Maybe we should stop there for the night. Allura?”

         “I think that’s an excellent idea,” she replied. “It's been a long day. Best we rest up before we reach our destination tomorrow.”

         “That’s right,” Millard said excitedly,all traces of fear vanishing at the thought of resting for the night, “where exactly are we going?”

         “To meet with some allies,” Allura answered, “and to… discuss our next move.”

 

* * *

 

        Excerpt from the Imperial Intelligence file on Takashi Shirogane, A.K.A. Champion

_Background: A search of confiscated local records reveal that Shirogane was born a farmboy in a quiet agrarian town._

_The first wave of Imperial conquest took place while Shirogane was eighteen. His village was destroyed in the attacks. Collateral damage._

_Information on the whereabouts of Shirogane's family is unavailable. It is unknown whether they survived the attack._

_The first recorded attack by Shirogane took place two years later when he allowed the bodyguard of General Geth to survive and carry a message._

_"Blood for blood."_

 

 


	5. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! If you are a returning reader, thank you for sticking with us. If you're new, thank you for reading this far! 
> 
> We're going to be taking an update hiatus for the first last week of 2016 and the first few weeks of 2017, while we finish some trips and holiday plans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

 

 

 

### Reunion

 

         They could not get Millard to stop bouncing up and down for the rest of the evening. Once they were set up for the night and built a fire, he begged them to tell him who they were going to meet, and nearly fainted with excitement when Allura reluctantly told him that it was two of the other Paladins.

         “They are the Yellow and Green Paladins,” Allura explained, “an Earthbender and an Airbender."

         Millard had yelped at that. “An Airbender?!? I thought they were just stories!”  
Allura looked sad. “No, airbenders are very much real, though there aren’t very many of them.”

         Keith made a pleased noise, remarking that it had been a long time since he had seen the other Paladins.  
“We practically had to tie them down to keep them from coming with us to get you,” Allura said.

         Keith chuckled at that, but his face quickly grew serious. “Where’s Lance?”  
“He’s-” Allura’s voice faltered, “On another assignment. Besides,” she added mischievously, “I thought the two of you couldn’t stand one another.”

         Keith huffed, annoyed.

         Millard looked back and forth between Keith and Allura. “Who’s Lance?” Millard asked.  
“A… friend,” Allura answered, and Keith harrumphed again, “He is the Blue Paladin, a water bender,” Allura answered.

         Millard digested that information for a moment, then stood up very quickly. “Wait a minute. If we’re going to meet the Green and Yellow Paladins, the Blue Paladin is on another mission, and the Black Paladin,” he pointed at Shiro, “is here, does that mean… Keith, are you the Red Paladin?!?”

         “Yeah?” Keith said, “I thought it was kind of obvious.”  
“B-b-but,” Millard spluttered, “No one’s ever seen you before! This is so cool!” he shouted to the sky.  
       Even Shiro had a chuckle at that as Millard flopped onto his back on the mossy ground.

         “This is everything I ever dreamed of."

* * *

  
         As the fire burned lower, Millard began to doze off. Keith walked over and picked him up, moving him to the sleeping bags that they had laid out earlier.  
“Mm… G’night, Keith,” Millard mumbled as he dropped off.

         “Night, Millard.”

         With the little one tucked into bed, Keith returned to the fire.  
“What’s our next move?” He asked Shiro and Allura. “Where are we going after we meet up with Pidge and Hunk?”

         Allura looked uncharacteristically unsettled.

       “We have another mission ahead of us.” She drew in a breath. “However, I’d prefer to brief you all together.”

         Keith let the issue go, agreeing to wait until they were all in one place and turned to go to his own bedroll. From behind him Allura gave one last instruction. “You should start training again in the morning. The next few days are going to be difficult.”

* * *

  
         Millard woke to find Allura making breakfast, Shiro meditating, and Keith exercising. But on this morning Keith was not moving slowly like before.

         His fists shot out in lightning fast motions, interspersed with precise kicks and spins.  
There was no flame, but it was obvious that Keith was retraining the muscles that had been lax while in prison.

         Millard crawled out of his bag, calling a “Good Morning,” and heading over to Keith.  
Allura acknowledged Millard’s greeting with a wave, but Shiro remained in his meditative position. Keith returned the greeting as he stopped to take a break.  
       Both he and Millard headed towards the fireplace.

         Shiro had used his bending to create a makeshift cook stove over the fire, and seats in a ring around it.  
Allura dished out portions of the food, a concoction made out of boiled oats sprinkled with some berries they had collected from the many bushes during their travels.

         Shiro unfolded himself and came over to join them. Allura handed him a portion and he sat down, sighing happily as he smelled the food.  
Millard finished most of his food before he spoke up. “Keith, can you teach me those exercises?”

         Keith cocked his head. “Why?”  
“They look like they help with controlling your fire. The way you move is so fast and accurate. I think practicing those might help me too,” Millard explained.

         “Alright,” Keith agreed, “I’ll start teaching you those after we leave the safe house.”  
He held up his pointer finger at Millard. “But, you’ll have to get up early to do them with me, alright?”

         Millard nodded. If that was the price to pay for not burning people on accident, he would be more than willing to do it.  
They finished their meal shortly and tidied up their camp area. No sense leaving a trail for soldiers to follow.

         Millard packed up his own gear this time, only stopping to ask Keith if he had done it correctly.  
       Keith approved, ruffling Millard’s hair fondly as the boy giggled. “Good job! Knew you could do it.”

         Once done they continued on through the woods.

* * *

  
         Millard sighted the safe house shortly before noon.

         It was nestled at the edge of the woods on the far side of a deep blue pond. A ridge rose from the forest floor next to it, and a small waterfall cascaded down into the pond. The house was half buried in the hillside, as though it had grown there.

         “I see it,” Millard shouted excitedly, and immediately broke out running through the trees towards it. “Race you,” he called back over his shoulder to Keith.  
         “Millard, wait,” he heard Allura yell, and a few seconds later he was falling towards the ground, his feet swept out from under him by an enormous gust of wind.

         He hit the ground with an “Oomph,” as the ground seem to soften under him and swallow him up to the waist.  
Yelping with surprise, he looked around frantically to see who had attacked him.

         A man dressed in brown clothing and wearing a headband emerged from the trees as a short… Girl? Boy? Dropped from the sky wearinga set of spectacles and loose green clothing that flapped when (She? He? They?) moved.  
They put their hands on their hips. “Well, what do we have here?”

         The man in the headband squinted. “Looks like a kid.”  
Looking up, he noticed Allura, Keith and Shiro heading towards them.  
He gave a happy shout. “Pidge! They got Keith back!”

         “What! Where?” The green clad person whirled around frantically, giving a joyous screech when they saw the other three. They flung themselves forward, a blast of air propelling them towards Keith.  
“You're ok!” they exclaimed as they slammed into him, giving him a tight hug.

         “Oof!” He staggered back a step. “Good to to see you too, Pidge.”  
They squeezed him until he winced. “Ow, ow. Still a little sore.”  
       They stepped back and proceeded to yell at him. “Don’t you ever do something like that again!”

         Keith opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Hunk.  
“Ahem,” he coughed. “We’re really happy to have you back. But we do have a small problem.” He stepped aside to reveal Millard still stuck in the ground behind them.

         Keith jumped. “Hunk, let him up! He’s with us.”

         Hunk gave a Keith a doubtful look, and Pidge fell into a bending stance- at least, Millard assumed it was one, though a style he’d never seen before- before Hunk made a series of motions that returned Millard safely to the surface.

         Keith crossed the distance between them and took Millard’s hand. “This is Millard,” he said to the pair that had ambushed the boy. “And this is Pidge,” pointing to the green clad person, “and Hunk,” gesturing to the brown. “The Green and Yellow Paladins.”

         “He knows about us?” Pidge asked incredulously, lowering their stance. “When did you decide that sharing that kind of information with the enemy was a good idea?”

         “Millard isn’t an enemy, Pidge. He helped me while I was a prisoner. And he helped us to escape when Allura and Shiro broke in to get me out,” Keith answered sharply. “You of all people should know not to judge by appearances.”

         Pidge’s face drew inward as though they bitten into something bitter, but Hunk strode forward and knelt in front of Millard, offering his hand for shaking.  
“Thank you very much for helping Keith, Millard. He needs it.” Hunk winked at him and Millard giggled, shaking the offered hand.

         “Hey,” said Keith mildly.  
“It’s nice to meet you, Hunk,” laughed Millard.

         Allura interrupted the reunion by clearing her throat to get everyone's attention.  
“We’re all very glad to be back, but there will be plenty of time for catching up later. Let's all go inside for now and have some lunch.”

         Shiro raised a hand. “Question: Is Hunk cooking?”  
“Of course,” Hunk laughed. “We’ve got to get you all healthy again.”  
“Truly we are blessed,” Pidge intoned, hands together in mock prayer. Shiro nodded solemnly.

         They all held the silence for a moment, then burst out laughing, unable to hold back the joy of being together again.

         Millard stood off to the side, feeling like he was intruding.This wasn’t Millard’s reunion. This was Keith’s family, and Millard wasn’t a part of it. He suddenly felt very small.

         The laughter trickled away slowly and they all started heading towards the safety of the house. Keith turned and gestured for Millard to follow, smile still on his face.

         Millard tried to smile back and jogged to catch up with them. He followed them into the house, unsure of what would come next.

         The adventure he had longed for was, it seemed, just beginning.

* * *

 

Urgent Telegram direct line to Emperor Zarkon:

_Lord Zarkon,_

_We have strong reason to believe that one of the recently arrived prisoners at [REDACTED] may be closely affiliated with the Voltron Force._

_He bears their mark in the center of his back, inked in blue._

_He will be kept isolated until further orders._

_Please advise._

Return Message:

        _I will deal with him personally._

_Do not lose him, if you value your life._


	6. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk gets everyone back in shape and Allura comes clean with a few secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> So I lied last week when I said that was going to be the last update for a while.
> 
> Happy New Year! This is actually going to be the last update for a few weeks.  
> I hope you all have been enjoying it!
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed, it means an awful lot to us writers!
> 
> Thank you!

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

### The Plan

 

 

         Despite Pidge’s mocking tone, their words were no joke.

         Hunk’s cooking truly was a blessing. The lunch was absolutely fantastic after days of living off the land, and Millard could have sworn that his taste buds died and went to heaven when he first tasted the feast Hunk prepared to celebrate Keith’s safe return.

         The safe house was homey and warm, with a kitchen that connected to the dining room, which held a large table. There was a window out the front, while the back wall was embedded in the face of an enormous boulder sitting in the middle of the forest.

         They talked about small things, avoiding the subject of Keith’s imprisonment. The small hisses of pain he let out when he moved wrong told them everything they needed to know.

         Millard was quiet throughout most of the meal, answering questions when they were asked of him, but otherwise just listening.

         Eventually, during a lull in the conversation, Hunk asked the question that both he and Pidge had been curious about since the return.

         “So, how did you end up joining them?” Hunk asked Millard, gesturing to Shiro, Keith, and Allura.

         “Oh. Um, I-I was in the same place where they put Keith in prison.” He twisted the bottom of his shirt between his fingertips. “I made friends with Keith while he was there and I- uh, asked if I could go with them when Shiro and Allura came to get him.”  
         Pidge sat back, frowning, as Millard answered the question. Hunk merely looked thoughtful.

         “He showed us a way to escape,” Allura supplied helpfully, and Pidge's expression changed to one of surprise.

         "Were you locked up there too?” They asked.

         “N-no,” Millard answered. “That was where I lived.”

         Pidge’s face scrunched up into a confused expression. “Then why did you help them?”

         “Um,” Millard fumbled for words.

         “Your book might help,” Allura cut in, and Millard's face brightened as he scrambled to his feet in search of his bag, which had been left by the door.

         “Book?” Pidge asked.

         “Yeah,” Millard said shyly as he returned, “my picture album about the Paladins.”  
He held out the binder and Pidge took it, eyebrow cocked. They flipped through it, silent, while Hunk leaned over to take a look as well.

         “How did you get all these?” Pidge asked quietly.

         Millard swallowed nervously. “U-um. Soldiers brought them for m-me every couple of weeks. You guys are so cool I just started collecting pictures. I wanted to know about you and all the things you do to help people…”  
Pidge closed the binder, then fixed Millard with a blank stare. Millard gulped a little, and everyone else was silent.

         Then Pidge’s face broke into a mischievous grin. “I guess you’re ok. Anyone who thinks we’re awesome is ok in my book.”  
Millard gave a little sigh of relief and the tension drained out of the room. The conversation flowed more easily the rest of the meal. Everyone started to relax in the comfortable atmosphere. Once finished, Hunk took the dishes back to the kitchen.  
         Pidge adjourned with Shiro and Allura to discuss something or other, while Keith and Millard followed Hunk to the kitchen.

         “Want to help me with the dishes?” Hunk asked Millard. Millard was confused. Didn’t they have someone to do that for them? When he asked, Hunk laughed and said, “Why would we do that when we can have fun doing it ourselves?”  
Millard was still perplexed, but as they started working, he realized that Hunk was right. Washing dishes was fun. The bubbles in the sink tickled his fur, and he ended up in a bubble fight with Hunk while Keith looked on and laughed.  
         Hunk and Millard stopped their assault, and looked at each other grinning. Quick as lightning they both grabbed a handful of bubbles and jumped at Keith, who screeched as they attacked.  
Very soon all three of them were laughing in a bubble covered heap on the floor. They untangled themselves quickly when Pidge walked in to see what all the noise was about. Pidge immediately walked back out, shaking their head and saying something about “Children.”

         Afterwards, Keith directed Millard to a door set in the back of the house that he hadn't noticed before, handing him a towel that Keith had pulled out of a cupboard.  
It was a wash room, with a basin set in one corner and a sink in the other.

         “Get cleaned up, ok?” Keith said.

         Millard ran water through his fur, scrubbing the soap bubbles out. Hunk and Pidge were really cool, just like Keith. They weren’t scary, even though they didn’t trust him at first. Hunk was a lot of fun to play with. And Pidge apparently liked having fans.  
He dried himself off with the towel, then quietly opened the door and peered back out.          Keith brightened when he saw the door open. “My turn,” he said, and pushed Millard back towards the common room.

         Millard sat quietly in an armchair as Hunk waited for his turn in the washroom and Pidge continued to converse in hushed tones with Allura and Shiro.  
By the time the other two had finished cleaning up the three who had been talking had gone quiet, with grim looks on their faces.

         Keith and Hunk took their seats, pulling chairs over from dining room table and settling in. Their jovial attitude faded away as they saw the looks on everyone else’s faces, and Hunk glanced at Keith with a twinge of guilt.  
“It has been wonderful to be back together,” Allura began, “and we will rest here for tonight, but tomorrow we must leave.” She paused. “We have a new mission, one that must be completed as soon as possible. I’m afraid I was not completely honest with you, Keith.”

         Keith gave her a sharp and worried look. “What do you mean?”

         Allura looked him in the eye and said, “Lance isn’t on another mission. He was also captured shortly after you.”

         The room was deathly quiet.

         Then Keith’s chair fell over as he shot up abruptly, shouting.

         “What?! “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

         Shiro’s strident voice broke in. “Because we knew this was how you would react. We told Hunk and Pidge not to tell you either.”

         “You knew?” Keith asked, incredulous. He looked frantically at Pidge and Hunk, who refused to meet his eyes. “You all knew, a-and, you came for me first?” He practically screamed the last few words. “You know what the Empire does to spies!” His voice cracked. “He could be dead, or- or worse, and we’re just sitting here, doing nothing!”

         “Keith, calm down, “ Allura said, “We hav-”

         “Calm. _Down_!?! You _lied_ to me! Lance might be _dead_ , and- and-” He broke off with a strangled shout and stormed towards the front door, ignoring the calls from the others behind him. The door slammed, and Keith was gone.

         Millard sat there, numb, as the others spoke in hushed tones.

         “We’ll have to fill him in when he gets back,” Shiro said. “I’ll go find him if he doesn’t come back soon.”

         _Lance? Keith was having nightmares about him getting hurt_ , Millard thought to himself. _Keith must be really scared for him._  
         Millard quietly slid down out of his seat and edged his way towards the door. He reached it unnoticed, and very slowly turned the knob to open the door, closing it gently behind him as he slipped through.

         Keith was not difficult to find. Millard could hear his angry shouts and followed them nearly to their source when they suddenly ceased. Millard peered around a tree and stopped. Keith was sitting on a fallen log under the cold starlight in a clearing up ahead. He sat with his face in his hands, still and silent.

         Millard walked around to his side and sat down on the log a short distance away.

         Keith didn’t move.

         Millard broke the silence. “What is Lance like?”

         Keith gave a choked laugh at the question, rubbing his hands into his eyes. “He- he’s the glue that holds us together. He’s funny, he’s loud, he’s obnoxious. But he really cares about us. He’d do anything to keep us safe. Even if- even if it got him captured.”

         Keith fell silent again, and Millard scooted closer. He didn’t know what to say, so he did the best thing he could think of and wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist, burying his cheek in his side. “We’ll get him back. Allura has a plan.”

         Keith put on hand on Millard’s head, leaving the other in his lap as the tears finally came. He shook with silent sobs as Millard held on tighter.

         And the light from the stars felt just a little bit warmer.

* * *

  
         Unseen to either, two pairs of eyes peered into the clearing, taking in the scene, careful to remain hidden.

         They turned to look at each other.

         Pidge had wanted to follow Millard to make sure that he wasn’t going to hurt Keith.  
Hunk had just been worried about his friend’s emotional state.

         What they had just seen confirmed what Keith had told them.

         This child was no enemy. He was an innocent, and deserved every chance with the rebellion.

         Hunk gestured silently; he had always trusted Keith’s judgement when it came to people. It was time that he and Pidge went back to the house and reluctantly, Pidge followed him.

* * *

 

         A little while later, Keith returned with Millard’s hand clasped in his own. Allura and Shiro welcomed him back and Hunk and Pidge murmured quiet apologies.

         “It's alright,” Keith said sheepishly, “I… Might have overreacted a little. What’s the plan?”

         Allura pulled a map out of a cubby on the wall and spread it out across the table. They all leaned over it.

         “According to my sources, they have Lance locked up in Valkraet.” Allura put a finger on the map as Keith sucked in a breath.

         “The volcano prison?” He met Allura’s eyes over the table and she nodded.

         “It's a brilliant move. There is no standing water for miles around, and no moisture for him to draw out of the air.”

         “He’s defenseless.” Keith looked a little less steady on his feet again.

         Allura pointed at another point on the map. “We’re here. It's at least a two day journey to get there, so we’ll leave tomorrow.” She traced their path again.  
“Normally it would only be one day to arrive there, but a Lillian has established dominance over a large portion of the forest there. We’ll have to go around.” A section of forest on the map was grayed out, and Danger was written over the area.

         Keith grimaced as Allura continued.

         “We’ll need to bring additional medical supplies. He’s likely to be in poor shape by the time we arrive.” She stepped back from the map.

         “We’ll formulate a plan of attack when we arrive at the prison. For now, everyone needs to get a good night's sleep. We’ll need all our strength to get him out.”

* * *

 

Telegram Transcript from Mobile Command Center to Valkraet Prison:  


Command:

        _I trust that you have maintained a hold on the prisoner? His status requires my personal attention. I shall be extremely displeased if I find out that I have_ wasted my time.

Valkraet Warden:

        _He is held most securely at the core of the prison, next to the magma chute. He will not escape, this I swear._ _Vrepit Sa!_


	7. Travel Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Paladins begin the journey to the prison and we learn a bit about Hunk's backstory!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and welcome back!
> 
> I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season.  
> The normal update schedule should resume now.
> 
> Remember to leave a comment if you enjoyed, it means a lot to us!

 

 

> A gilded cage may look inviting  
>  It still imprisons freedom
> 
>   
>  \- Amitav

 

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

 

 

 

### Travel Stories

 

       The next morning they packed all their supplies. Hunk, as de facto cook, carried most of their food stuffs. As a result, everyone else helped to carry his personal gear, splitting the load up between them.

       In contrast to their element, Pidge’s bag was surprisingly heavy. “It's all essential,” they said when Shiro suggested they leave some of it behind.

       Shiro made as if to argue, but didn’t dare go poking through Pidge’s things to contest his point.

       Allura and Shiro carried both their own gear and a bevy of medical supplies, prepared for the worst, while Keith and Millard’s packs were the lightest. Millard had little to carry anyway, and the rest of the group refused to let Keith carry more than he had to.

       “You’re still healing,” Allura said, “and we’ll need you more than anyone else when we arrive at the prison.”

       Keith grudgingly acknowledged that this was true, though the feeling of uselessness left him unsettled.

       Millard however, refused to be coddled. He pestered everyone else until Hunk finally gave in and gave Millard some of the cooking pans onto the outside of bag.

       They clattered around as Millard jumped around excitedly until Allura finally grabbed him by the shoulders and said, “Stay still for a moment, please.”

       She walked around behind Millard and he could feel her doing something with the pack.

       “Alright. You’re free to go now,” her voice said from behind him.

       He wiggled experimentally. No more clanking sounds.

       Once they had finished packing, they cleaned the safe house, storing away the extra food and making sure that the house would be usable again the next time it was needed.

       Millard took a broom and made a valiant effort to sweep the floor, but only succeeded in floofing the dust into the air. Pidge shook their head at him and gently took the broom out of his hands, setting it to the side. Then they winked at him and said, “Watch this.” They swirled their arms and the air moved around them, gathering all the floating dust into one place.

       Millard watched, mouth wide open in awe, as the whirling ball of dust floated through the open door and puffed outward, propelling the dirt out and away.

       Pidge smirked at Millard’s astonished look, only to be taken aback when Millard grabbed their shoulders.  
“That was so cool!” Millard practically shouted in Pidge's face.

       “I’ve got lots of other tricks,” Pidge said, “I can show them to you later.” They winked at Millard, who nodded enthusiastically.

       Hunk came up behind them from where he had been securing the kitchen and grabbed Millard, tickling him mercilessly.

       “Gotcha!”

       Millard giggled and tried to wiggle away, but Hunk was too big to fight off.

       Eventually Hunk stopped and Millard lay curled up on the floor fighting back the last of the giggles. Hunk was laughing too, and Pidge had an amused look on their face.

       Millard sat up. “You could have warned me he was coming,” he said to Pidge indignantly.

       “Where’s the fun in that?” Pidge replied impishly.

       “Grr-” Millard growled playfully and launched himself at Pidge, who twirled out of the way effortlessly- and right into Hunk’s waiting arms. Hunk winked at Millard.

       Pidge squirmed, “Hunk don’t you da- ACK!” And then Millard was tickling their feet as they wriggled, kicking helplessly and laughing despite themself.

       “C’mon, guys!” Keith’s voice called from outside. “It's time to go!”

       Hunk tossed Pidge over his shoulder and scooped Millard up with his other arm.  
He paused in the doorway. “Did you get everything you need?”

       “Yes,” came the muffled response from over his back.

       Hunk laughed at their exasperated tones as he stepped out the door and walked over to where Keith, Allura, and Shiro were waiting.

       “All squared away?” Shiro asked.

       “Yep,” Pidge chirped from over Hunk’s shoulder. “Cover ‘er up!”

       Shiro’s eyes closed in concentration as the ground around the group trembled. Millard watched wide eyed as Shiro gave a heave with his arms and a literal wave of earth swept up and over the house, leaving it completely covered.

       He opened his eyes and looked at his handiwork. He nodded, satisfied. It would remain hidden until the next rebel group needed it.

       Shiro turned back to as Allura handed him his pack. He slipped it on as Millard bounced excitedly near Hunk, Pidge, and Keith.

       Allura clapped her hands together, her bag already strapped on. “Let us be off!”

* * *

  
       The travel was much more exciting for Millard this time around, now that he had more people to talk to. He eagerly listened to Hunk and Pidge tell story after story, about friends in the resistance, missions they had been on, things they had done. Whatever they shared, Millard ate up.

       Shiro and Allura were glad that he was no longer pestering them. In the quiet, they pored over the map and compass, making sure not to lose their bearings in the wide tract of wilderness.

       Millard grew tired as the day wore on. He did not complain, but he grew much quieter and only half acknowledged the tales that the others told him.

       Eventually the boy let out a surprised “Aah!” as Hunk scooped him up onto his shoulders. Millard grinned from ear to ear as he swayed back and forth with the movement of Hunk’s body, his feet feeling a little better already.

       “How’s the air up there?” Hunk called up, and Millard giggled. “It's great!” He looked around. Everything looked different when you were up so high. Plants and bugs looked much smaller, and the trees didn't seem quite so tall.

       Millard stayed on Hunk’s shoulders for a long while, eventually dozing off in the heat of the afternoon.

* * *

  
       As the sun reached its zenith, Allira called a halt for lunch.

       They found a quiet open space, and Hunk gently deposited Millard on the ground, carefully arranging the backpacks into a pillow under the boy’s head before turning and rejoining the others.

       They sat in a loose circle as they dug the food they had prepared beforehand out of their bags, and Keith looked over to where Millard slept with concern in his eyes.

       “Should we wake him up? He needs to eat something between now and dinner,” Keith asked, his tone laced with worry.

       “You care for the boy, don’t you Keith?” Pidge asked with a wicked grin on their face. “I thought you didn’t like kids. Too noisy, or something.”

       Face flushing, Keith stammered back, “I- I don’t like kids! I just don’t want him to die, that's all.”

       “Right,” Pidge snorted. “I’m just messing with you. You’re right, we should wake him up soon.” They paused. “But first, you’ve got some explaining to do, I think. There wasn’t much time before, but I want the whole story on why you brought him along.”

       Hunk nodded. “Me too. He is utterly adorable and incredibly sweet, but he is a Galra. How did you even become friends with him?”

       Allura overheard Hunk’s question and scooted closer in.

       “I’d like to hear this story too.”

       Shiro remained in his original position, still poring over the map, but he strained his ears to hear what Keith was saying.

       So Keith told the story, starting with the fight in the courtyard and quickly recounting his interactions with Millard over the course of the two week Keith had been incarcerated.

       Allura’s expression darkened when Keith talked about the suppressors. The resistance had known about the technology for a while now, but the portability of the fist sized crystal in Keith’s cell was a worrying development.  
However, her eyes glittered with interest when Keith recounted his ability to bend at full strength until his connection to fire had been completely blocked.

       He continued his account, voice going slightly shaky as he described some of the things the Galra had put him through in order to drag information out of him.

       Hunk and Pidge were livid, barely able to constrain their anger. Keith’s voice stabilized considerably as he described how Millard had taken care of him, bringing him food and a genuine smile each night.

       Pidge looked back to Millard, sleeping serenely in the shade of a huge oak tree. It was becoming more and more clear why Keith had been willing to let this kid come with them, despite his purple skin and fur.

       Allura had heard the tremor in Keith’s voice as he told of his time in prison and she reached over the lay a hand on his knee, squeezing encouragingly.

       “That’s enough for now, I think,” she said. “Let's wake Millard up now and you can finish telling us the rest later.” Keith nodded, and Hunk stood, walking over to where Millard lay, still fast asleep.

       He gently shook Millard’s shoulder. “C’mon bud, time to wake up.”

       “Wh-huh?” Millard’s eyes fluttered open and he yawned, mouth gaping open to reveal a pair of decent sized fangs. Hunk flinched back slightly as Millard stretched, recovering before the boy looked around and took stock of his surroundings.

       “We stopped for lunch,” Hunk explained, “but you looked like such a little angel that we let you sleep for a while longer.”

       He pinched Millard’s cheek playfully and Millard whacked his hand away, giggling a little.

       “Come on, we’ve got some food for you. You'll love it.”

       Millard followed him back to where the others were seated. They greeted him cheerfully and passed him what looked like meat and cheese pressed between two pieces of bread.

       Hunk saw his look of confusion and asked, “What, haven't you ever eaten a sandwich before?”

       “Sand- witch?” Millard questioned. It didn’t look like it had sand in it. And what was that about a witch?

       “You- you’ve never seen a sandwich before, have you.” Pidge said, and Millard shook his head, thoroughly confused. Immediately, Hunk launched into a lengthy explanation of the creation and function of the humble sandwich.

* * *

 

       Keith fought back a laugh as Hunk tried to explain the concept of a sandwich.  
Millard seemed to understand the basic idea, that a sandwich could contain many of the major food groups all in one sitting, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the name.

       “Why is it called a sandwhich?” Keith watched as Millard’s face screwed up in confusion yet again. “There’s no sand in it!”

       This time Keith let the laugh out as a quiet chortle, to soft for Millard to hear. But it did not go unnoticed by Allura, who leaned over to him.

       “This is good for you,” she said gently, “having someone this young and innocent with us.” Keith looked away. “He shouldn’t be here. I should have sent him away. It would have been safer for him.”

       “No,” Allura stated, “it wouldn’t.” She looked at Millard, still occupied by Hunk and now Pidge, who had joined the conversation. Then she threw a glance in Shiro’s direction.

       The two watched as Shiro lifted his water flask to take a drink. He frowned and shook it towards the ground. Empty. Shiro looked at Allura, who nodded, before he stood up and walked into the forest, head tilted as though he was listening to something.

       “You saved him,” Allura continued in an undertone, turning back to Keith. “I’ll explain another time, but rest assured that you made the right decision.”

       Keith took a raspy breath but then nodded. “Okay.”

       Across the circle, Pidge had given up on trying to explain sandwiches, and Hunk had been forced to confess that he didn’t know why sandwiches were named that, and Millard was right, it made no sense.

       A grin tugged at the edges of Keith’s mouth as Hunk finally just insisted that Millard take a bite of the sandwich, despite its strange name and appearance.

       Millard’s skeptical expression morphed into one of surprise and delight as he bit down and chewed.  
“Ith good!” He exclaimed through the food in his mouth, before proceeding to ravenously devour the rest of it.

       “See?” Hunk smirked, “I told you you’d like it.”

       Millard nodded dramatically as he swallowed the last of his sandwich.

       “More?”

       Hunk shook his head. “Better not. We’ll have a big meal for dinner, alright?”

       Millard’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout which quickly dissolved into a grin as Hunk started tickling him again. Keith looked on and laughed. Allura was right. The boy looked happy here with them, despite their rocky start.

       Shiro walked back into camp, looking up to gauge how far the sun had moved along its path. He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. “There’s a stream a few miles that way,” he said.

       Allura stood and brushed herself off. “Alright everyone, let's get going. We’ll follow Shiro to the stream and refill on water, then continue on to Valkraet.”

* * *

  
       Shiro said something else as Millard scampered over to grab his and Hunk’s bags, but the boy was only half listening.

       He was eager to be off. The sooner they left, the sooner they would be able to stop for dinner, right?  
Millard paused. That was how that worked, right?

       Shrugging, he slung his own pack onto his back and tried to lift Hunk’s.

       He nearly toppled over. In the end he resorted to dragging it along towards the group until Hunk noticed and picked it up with one hand.

       Millard gaped at him. “Wha- how?!?”

       “How what?” Hunk replied with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

       “I- you- what?!?” Millard was at a complete loss for words.

       Laughing at Millard’s dumbfounded expression, Hunk patted him on the back and said, “Don’t worry. You’re not the first person to be shocked by _this_.” He flexed an arm.

       “Turns out that hammering on metal all day for 8 years really builds character. And muscles.” He winked and Millard shook himself out of his shocked trance.

       “That’s so cool! You’re super strong!” Millard exclaimed excitedly. “And you were a blacksmith? What kinds of things did you make?”

       “I’ll tell you as we go, okay?” Hunk said.

       Millard nodded in agreement and they joined the rest of the group to begin walking.

       As they wove through the trees and over hidden ridges, Hunk told Millard some of his story.

       “To start off, my grandpa was a Firebender. He married my Grandma, was was just a normal human, but their daughter, my Mom, married an Earthbender,” Hunk explained.

       “My mom was a non bender, but I guess I inherited something from my grandpa, because when I was little and got mad, rocks would start to melt near me. I’m a lava bender!”

       Hunk sported a wide smile as he said that, and Millard stopped dead in his tracks.

       “No way,” he said. “Can you show me?”

       Hunk motioned for him to keep walking, but nodded, saying, “Sure,” and bending down to scoop a pebble off the ground.

       Millard scampered closer, eager to watch. Hunk opened his hand and the pebble floated above it. He made a strained twisting motion with the open fingers of his other hand, and the stone began to glow a dull red. A few moments later and it shone a bright orange, and after that a brilliant white, until it suddenly pooled into a heap of slag that sloshed above Hunk’s hand as though in bowl.

       Heat washed off of it in radiant waves and Millard was spellbound by the glow. He started to reach out towards it- and then it stopped glowing, hardening once again into a pebble.

       Hunk tucked it away as he scolded Millard.

       “You can’t touch molten rock! It’ll melt your hand off!” He exclaimed, waving his hands wildly.

       “Oh,” Millard said, “right.” He looked up at Hunk sheepishly. “Oops?” 

“Yeah, _oops_ ,” Hunk huffed. “I can’t show you any more tricks unless I know you can be safe around them, ok?”

       “Yes, sir!” The boy said as his hand snapped up in a mock salute.

       Hunk laughed. “Good job, soldier,” he said, saluting back. “Vrepit Sa.”

       Shiro glanced back as Hunk said those words, and Hunk’s face morphed into one of mortification. He fell silent for a while, until Millard tugged on his sleeve.

       “Um, Hunk?”

       “Yeah?”

       “What does vrepit sa mean?”

       “Oh.” Hunk stayed quiet for a minute, thinking how best to answer the question.

       “It's something that Galra soldiers say. It means something like, ‘for the Empire.’”

       He continued after a moment. “They also say it when they’re fighting and refuse to surrender. When they say it there, it means,” Hunk paused for a moment, “Victory or death.”

       Millard looked up a horrified look in his eyes. “They don’t stop even when they can’t win?”

       Hunk shook his head no. “They just want to cause as much pain and damage as they can at that point.”

       “That’s horrible!” Millard exclaimed. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

       “I don’t know,” said Hunk. “But that’s why we fight them, to stop them from… doing those things.” He gestured vaguely with his hand, unwilling to openly state exactly what sort of things Millard’s people did.

       “Well, I’m glad I’m here with you guys now,” Millard continued. “Would they have made me do that too?” He looked up at Hunk, his eyes round and worried.

       Hunk bit his lip. “Yeah, bud. They would have, once you got little bit older. But hey! You're here with us now. We won’t let anything happen to you, and we won’t make you hurt anyone, ok?”

       The answer to his question was a wide grin and a hug.

       “Ok.”

       “Hey guys,” an irritable voice called back. “You coming with us or what?”

       Pidge stood on the ridge of the next hill, hands on their hips as they squinted at the hugging pair. “Whoops,” Hunk said, “c’mon Millard!”

       He swooped the boy up into his arms and jogged to catch up with the others, only then setting Millard gently back on the ground as the group carried on.

       “Anyway, where did I leave off?”

Millard scrunched up his nose as he tried to remember.  "Oh! I know! You just told me about your family and that you’re a lava bender.”

       Hunk nodded. “Right.” He took a minute to organize his thoughts and then went on.

       “We lived in a small mining town in the mountains. Lots of kids worked on the town farms or helped with moving tools and things like that. Once they found out I was a lava bender, I was picked to work in the smithy.”

       He grinned fondly at the memories. “Turns out that having a source of melted rock is really really good for working with metal. Once I arrived they never needed to stoke the fire again.”

       He frowned. “I can’t bend very much stone into lava at a time, and it takes a lot of energy to keep it that way, but it’s enough to keep the forge hot.”

       Millard was listening with rapt attention, fascinated by Hunk’s story.

       “It was a great life.” His voice turned wistful.

       “Why did you leave and join the Paladins then?” Millard asked.

       Hunk’s countenance changed. He looked guarded and tense.

       “We were attacked by Galra soldiers. They wanted the valuable metals and stones that we mined.”

       Hunk drew in a breath. “Most of the village was destroyed. Everyone that survived went to another village on the other side of the mountain. My family escaped safely, but a lot of the people I grew up with were hurt or killed.”

       “The resistance brought food, medicine, and manpower to help us rebuild and set up in the new town. When they announced that it was time to leave, I decided to go with them. The attacks of the Empire need to be stopped, and I have the power to help stop them.”

       Millard’s eyes shone as he looked up at Hunk. “That's really awesome,” the boy said. “You’re a hero!”

       “Nah,” Hunk laughed, “I’m just someone who wants to help.”

       Suddenly Pidge interjected. “Hey! There’s the stream!”

       A short distance away through the trees, a wide clear stream ran through the woods, cutting a winding path through the underbrush.

       Millard darted on ahead, eager to see the water.

       The rest of the group leisurely walked up to it, and began to pulling out their water flasks in order to refill them.

       Millard set his pack on the ground and rummaged through it, finding his water bottle with a bit of difficulty. _Maybe I should organize things a little better_ , he thought to himself.

       He uncapped his flask and held it in the flow of the creek, allowing the water to run in and fill it up. Task complete, he capped it and stored it away, watching as the others did the same, before his attention was pulled away by a fluttering noise from behind him.

       He turned and saw a small purple-pink butterfly spinning off into the trees along the stream, following its flow. Entranced, he took off after it, only to lose it after only a few steps. Then it fluttered out from behind a tree again, higher than he had expected.

       He laughed and chased after it again, losing track of his surroundings as he continued to follow it deeper into the woods.

* * *

  
       Keith capped his flask and twisted around to store it in his pack. Shiro and Allura had also finished filling their containers, and were stowing them away.

       Pidge and Hunk were nearly finished as well. Keith suddenly started. _Where was Millard?_

       “Hunk? Where’s Millard?” He asked.

       “Um. I don’t know. He was right here a second ago.” Hunk gestured to a spot on the stream bank next to him. “His bag is still here.”

       Keith felt a chill run through him. “Did anyone see where he went?”

       Shiro closed his eyes and listened. “He’s running that way. Not urgently, he's weaving back and forth.” He raised a finger to point downstream.

       Allura shot upright.

       “Oh no. No, no, no, Shiro, that's the direction of-”

       “What?!?” Keith shot to his feet. “Why is he going that way? We need to catch him before-”

       “Let's go. Shiro, you lead the way.” Allura said commandingly. “We don’t have much time.”

       And then they were running.

* * *

 Excerpt from the History of [Redacted], as written by the Resistance.

        ** _Volume 3: Biological Changes_**

_Of peculiar note is the curious effect of Human and Galra relations. The union is viable, and children born to such a pair may exhibit traits from either parent, in variable quantities, ranging from skin or hair with altered pigment, to the ability to change between fully realized forms of each species._

_It has also been observed over the course of several generations that a Galran ancestor can confer fire-bending ability across many generations, the trait able to remain dormant for years until manifesting in future progeny._

       

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hue hue hue.
> 
> :3 
> 
> Tune in next week...


	8. Stay Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out where Millard was running, and why it was a bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about that cliffhanger last week! (no I'm not)
> 
> I hope you have all had a nice week, and that you enjoy this week's chapter. 
> 
> Remember to leave a comment if you enjoy, it means a lot!

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

### Stay Close

 

         Millard was growing tired, but the butterfly was still so hypnotic, spinning and twirling through the air.

         He kept running, not noticing as the light grew thinner, the vegetation darkened, and the air took on a polluted smell.  
From behind him he heard his name being called, urging him to stop, but the butterfly drew him on.

         Suddenly the ground under him shifted and he was falling, hard.

         His nose smacked against the ground, and he lost sight of the butterfly, when suddenly Keith was there, pulling him up off the ground and back the direction they had come from.  
His nose was bleeding and he reached up to touch it, startled by how much blood was dripping from it before he took in their surroundings.

         Only then did he notice how ominous the forest had become.

         A hint of rot lay beneath everything, the plant life oozing red sap from gashes in their skins, leaves curling and twisting around one another in unnatural ways.  
         He looked back and saw the grass where he had fallen writhing over the blood spattered patch of earth.

         As Keith continued to drag him away from the darkness, the butterfly he had been following dropped to the ground and curled up, dead.  
No, not a butterfly. _A flower._  
         Once the two of them had regrouped with the others, Millard was frog marched far away from the edge of the darkened wood. Allura berated him the entire distance.  
         “How could you wander off like that, do you not remember what happened last time? You almost ran straight into the Lillian's territory!”

         Millard was still disoriented from his fall. “Wh-what?”

         Allura whirled on him, startled. “Millard, you know what a Lillian is, right?”

         Millard shook his head. _Should I know already?_

         Allura stopped and knelt down to his height, turning him so that he could see back the way they had come, while Keith stood ready to fight. Millard had never seen him so on guard, ready to attack at the slightest provocation.  
“A Lillian is one of the most dangerous creatures in existence,” she told him. “You see the dark part of the forest, where the plants look like they are dying?”

         Millard felt a chill run down his spine. _Dangerous?_

         “Yes, I see it,” he answered.

         “It extends for several miles in both directions,” she continued, facing Millard back towards her.  
“That is the edge of its territory. All the plants in that whole swath of forest look that way because they are under its control. Lillians find an established forest, dig themselves a nest, and begin to take it over.” She reached down to pluck a leaf from a small, vividly colored shrub.

         She held the leaf in front of Millard. “Do you see?”  
The leaf was green at the tip, but as he traced the spiderweb of veins he saw that it was flushed a deep red closer in to the stem.  
         He traced a finger over the stem wonderingly, but quickly pulled back with an “Ow,” and flapped his hand to dispel the pain.  
         “When a Lillian bonds with a forest, the plants begin to change. The sap becomes caustic and the leaves begin to grow sharp.”

“Is that why it's so dangerous to go there?” Millard asked.

         “Among others reasons,” She replied, frowning at the leaf in her hand. “Keith, this one is still young. Look at how much corruption there is.” She held the leaf out for Keith to inspect. He leaned over and appraised it.

         “You’re right. It hasn’t learned control yet.”

         “If only we had the time we could uproot it…”

         Millard’s brow furrowed as they spoke, growing more confused by the minute. “What are you talking about?”  
Allura returned her attention to Millard once again.

         “I’ll explain more as we move away. We’re not safe, even this far out on the edge of its domain.”  
She discarded the leaf, tossing it to the side and taking Millard’s hand.

         “Let’s go.”

         Keith gave one more distrustful look at the poisoned woods before following Allura, bringing up the rear in order to guard them.  
Allura began to explain.

         “Many years ago, my people had an alliance with several ancient Lillians. We learned much from them and they from us before they were incinerated by the Empire.”  
         Her breath hitched as the memories resurged, before continuing.

         “When a Lillian sprouts, they are much like a human baby, but a great deal more dangerous. They know what they need to survive, and they fight for it. It takes many many years before they learn much of anything at all.”  
“As they grow older, they learn to control how much corruption spreads into their domain. You can usually judge a Lillian’s age based on the state of their territory. And the younger they are, the easier they are to eradicate.”

         “Why would you kill them?” Millard asked, confused. “As long as people stay away from their areas, why do they need to be killed? They aren’t hurting anyone.”  
Keith cut in. “They eat people, Millard. That's why it dangled that flower to lure you in. It wanted to eat you.”

         Millard gaped at them, and Allura nodded to confirm Keith’s information.

         A very strange noise somewhere between a squeak and a scream tore itself out of Millard’s throat right about then.  
“We got to you just in time,” said Allura. “Too much farther and it would have had you.”

         “I- I-,” Millard felt tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.He sat down with a bump on a mossy log.

“Hey, hey, come on, you’re ok now.” Keith knelt next to him and tried to comfort him.  
Millard buried his face in Keith’s chest, the tears spilling out into the fabric of his tunic.

         “I’m s-sorry,” he sobbed, “I should’ve l-listened and stayed n-near you.”  
Keith wrapped him tight in his arms and simply held him.

         “It's ok, Millard. We’re not angry. We were worried, that’s all. It's ok.”

* * *

  
         Keith burned a small tree before they left the corrupted stretch of woods. Allura advised him to do so, telling him that it would serve as a warning, lest the creature attempt to follow.  
“You can feel everything that happens to your plants, right?” Keith called into the darkness. “I suggest you don’t follow us.”

         With that, he sparked a blade shaped flame in his clenched fist and held it to the bark of the sapling.  
The wood gave a sizzle-hiss as it burned, emitting foul smelling smoke into the air.

         An ear piercing shriek rang from the forest, followed by the sounds of some large animal crashing away into the distance, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.  
Keith let the blade flicker out of existence.

         “Well, that did something.”  
“Indeed,” Allura said. “That worked better than I expected. However, we should stay as far away from its territory as we can from now on.” She glanced at Millard. “It has our scent now.”

         Millard shivered.

         “Let's go then,” Keith said uneasily. “We still have a lot of ground to cover.”

* * *

  
         Pidge and Hunk leapt up when Keith, Allura, and Millard entered the clearing they were waiting in. Shiro remained where he was, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and his face stormy.  
         “You got him! Oh, thank heavens,” Hunk exclaimed, sweeping Millard up into a bear hug and spinning around in a circle.

         Millard laughed as he was swung around and wobbled dizzily when Hunk set him down again.  
“Good thing too,” Pidge added. “That Lillian would _not_ have had a quick death if it had gotten him.”  
         They grinned darkly at their own twisted humor.

         Everyone else stared at them.

         “Whaaat? You were all thinking it,” they said smugly.

         Allura looked at Shiro. “You seem remarkably unworried.”

         He shrugged. “I was watching through the ground. It didn’t come close enough hurt you.”  
Allura inclined her head, then shook it, discarding whatever it was she had been about to say.

         Instead, she clapped her hands together twice, then gestured towards the sky.  
“We had best be off. We’re running out of daylight and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover yet.”

         “You,” Shiro said, pushing off of the tree and towering over Millard, more grumpy than actually angry, “don’t run off again.”

         Millard nodded furiously. He had already been on the receiving end of Shiro’s wrath, and it was not an experience he was eager to repeat.  
And with that final warning, off they went.

* * *

 

Excerpt from the "Explorer's Guide to Not-Dying-an-Excruciating-Death-at-the-Hands-of-Non-Human-Entities"

        _Chapter 7: Lillians:_

_Lillians are one of the most dangerous creatures in existence. From the time they germinate they are vicious hunters, starting with small fare such as mice and frogs and eventually moving on to larger prey such as cattle, deer, and sentient creatures such as Humans and Galra._

_As they grow, they begin to overcome their basic need to hunt and consume. What is left in its place is a twisted intelligence, one that is capable of making deals and savoring its food, sharpening its hunger into a desire to the filled rather than a need._

_Over time, Lillians develop a preference for the flesh of sentient creatures. The eldest of the creatures that I have had the displeasure of conversing with tells me that fear makes the flesh far more pleasant, and that sentient creatures are capable of feeling the most fear._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is displeased.
> 
> Also for those who may be wondering, Allura had the rest of the them wait back in that clearing.  
> The more potential food, the more likely the Lillian would have just jumped them.  
> Allura has the most experience, and Keith had the fire, so they were the two to go deepest into the Lillian's area.


	9. Show-and-Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Millard doesn't have anything to do, and asks Pidge to show off.  
> The results are... unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this is late!
> 
> Life got a little crazy this week. I'll try to stay on it in the future!

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

### Show-and-Tell

 

       The rest of the day was entirely uneventful, a blur of hills, trees, and boulders.They made camp in the shadow of an enormous stone that night, sheltered beneath an overhang that Shiro and Hunk worked together to create, carving the space out of the enormous rock and using the sheared off pieces to brace the rest of the rock.

       They stopped early in the evening. Everyone was tired from the travel and excitement of the day, and busied themselves with routine tasks.

       Shiro sat and meditated while Allura looked over a large map, frowning as she tracked their process. Keith turned in early, complaining that his injuries were flaring up again from his exertions earlier in the day.

       Millard had felt a spike of guilt about that.

       Hunk set up a fire pit, piling up and liquefying a numbers of stones to create a fire pit that gave off no smoke but was remarkable effective for cooking, and set about preparing the meal that he had promised earlier.

       It smelled good; it looked like some sort of stew from what Millard could see, and his stomach growled. Pidge was the only person who seemed to be doing nothing important.

       They had produced several marbles from some hidden fold of their clothing after climbing a tree, and now sat quietly, idly spinning the marbles on a current of air that swirled over their hand with gentle movements of their fingers.

       Millard awkwardly scaled the tree, reaching a lower branch and calling up to get their attention. “Pidge?” He called.

       They snapped their hand shut, collecting up all the marbles in one fell swoop- except for one. It spun out and away until- suddenly Pidge was there, hanging upside down, hand closing over the marble. They landed gently on the ground with a flourish and tucked the marbles back into their robes while Millard clambered down.

       When he finally hopped down to the ground they gave a mock bow, straightening back up as Millard clapped for them.

       “Did you need something, Millard?” They asked. Millard shuffled his feet, somewhat abashed.

       “No, not really,” he said, “but I was hoping you could show me some of those air-bending moves you were talking about before.” He gestured to the others spread around the camp.

       “Hunk won’t let me help with dinner, Allura doesn’t need any help with the map, Keith’s sleeping, and I don’t want to annoy Shiro.” His eyes grew wide. “Not one bit.”

       Pidge snorted. “Good thinking.” They stood up tall, striking a pose. “And of course I can show you some airbending moves. It's not everyday that I get to show off.” Grinning widely, they motioned for Millard to follow them a little ways away.

* * *

 

       “I don’t want to disturb anyone,” they explained as they lead Millard into an adjacent clearing. “Wind makes a lot of noise, and it would mess up Allura’s map.”

       They paused. “I’ve only done that once.” A shudder wracked them and they turned to face Millard, stabbing a finger in his direction. “Once.”

       Millard made a mental note never to play with Allura’s maps.

       “Anyway, this should be good.” Pidge spread their hands and gestured to a small meadow, empty except for patches of tall grass dotted here and there.

       Millard followed them to the center of the circle and stopped as they urged around to face him.

       “If you thought the sweeper back at the house was cool, just wait ‘till you see this.” With that, they leapt into the air and swung their hands in a wide circle, ending with their fists together in front of them.

       A swirling ball of air gathered underneath them and they landed on it, spinning in a circle as they balanced on top of it.

       Millard was starstruck. “That’s so cool! How is it holding you up? I thought people were too heavy to float!”

       “Poke it,” Pidge instructed, eyes glittering. When Millard did as instructed, his finger sank in only a few inches before it was flung out by the wind. “Whoa!”

       Pidge laughed. “I know, right? It's called the air scooter.” Millard looked up at them. “What’s a scooter?”

       “What’s a- kid, have you had any kind of childhood? Pidge let the air scooter dissipate. “You don’t know what a scooter is?” They shook their head in disbelief. “I guess that makes sense, given that you didn’t know what a sandwich was.”

       Millard felt… embarrassed? Ashamed? Was- was he supposed to know all these things?

       “It’s alright,” Pidge said encouragingly as they saw his worried expression, “we’ll teach you about all kinds of things now that you’re with us.” They grinned mischievously. “Let's go back to cool moves for now, alright?”

       “Ok,” Millard answered feeling just a little bit better.

       Pidge proceeded to explain. “Anyway, a scooter is a type of toy that you go from place to place on. I use that sphere of air to get around quickly, therefore it is a scooter made of air.”

       “I see,” Millard said, only sort of seeing. Pidge must have seen his lingering confusion, because they sighed and said, “I’ll show you an actual scooter when we get back to base, alright?”

       Millard nodded. “I would like that.”

       “Now then. Back to showing off!” For the next ten minutes, Pidge displayed all sorts of Airbender tricks, basking in the awe of the young Galra.

       Pidge’s motions caused harmless things; dust devils, rustling waves in the grass, knocking leaves off of tree branches, things like that. After one particular move, Millard leapt to his feet from where he been sitting on the ground.

       “Can I try that one?!?” He asked, excited.

       Pidge looked at him strangely. “Sure,” they said, “but it won’t do anything. Bending moves only work for the element that they were designed for.”

       Millard pouted for a moment. “I know. I still want to try it though.” Pidge regarded him for a moment, then shrugged.

       “Alright, so here’s how you do it…”

* * *

  
       Millard ate up Pidge’s explanation and demonstration, eager to try out to the movement on his own. “Ok, you got all that?” Pidge asked.

       “Yep!” He said.

       Pidge shrugged and stepped back.“Alright then. Give it a go.”

       Millard settled into the stance that Pidge had demonstrated and got a feel for the unfamiliar position. “This is really different from what I learned at home,” he said, shifting a bit.

       Pidge snorted. “Of course it is. It’s a completely different element.”

       Millard made a noise of agreement and took a deep breath to steady himself. Then he launched into the movement, swirling his hand around as he twisted around, stepping purposefully, as though he was drawing the air around him. Pidge watched, calling out encouragement.

       “Looks good! You’re a quick learner.”

       Millard began to speed up, taking the steps faster and faster, encouraged by Pidge’s praise, until he reached the final motion, his hand swirling out as if to guide the current of air outward along the curve of his palm.

       For a single moment all was still.

       But only for a moment. Then a raging firestorm erupted from the center of Millard’s palm, blossoming into a raging cone of heat and flame.

       Pidge watched it happen in slow motion, and before they could even comprehend it, they were moving. Their hands arced through the air, calling the aether to do their bidding. And it obeyed, compressing into a coalesced sphere around Millard’s errant fire blast, holding it in and away from the flammable materials all around them.

       The flames lapped at the oxygen in the bubble as Millard staggered back, shocked.

       And just as abruptly as the flames had begun, they ended, consuming themselves within Pidge’s protective sphere. They both stared at each other, frozen with disbelief.

       “Th-that wasn’t s-supposed to h-happen, w-was it?” Millard stammered.

       Pidge relaxed out of the stance they had frozen in while putting out the fire and frowned at Millard. They pushed up their spectacles and looked at him curiously.

       “No… It wasn’t…” They forced a smirk. “But no harm done. Your form was excellent, even if there were some… unexpected side effects. I think maybe we should be done for today though, huh?”

       Millard nodded, his eyes still wide. “I think that's a good idea.”  
Pidge threw an arm around his shoulders conspiratorially. “And, uh, let's keep what just happened between you and me, ok?”

       “O-ok.”

       “Great! Back to camp then. Hopefully Hunk will have dinner ready by now.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, they mean so much to us!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	10. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk is an excellent cook, and Keith has more to his past than we knew.
> 
> :3

 

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

### Nightmares

 

       As luck would have it, dinner was indeed ready when Pidge and Millard walked back into camp.

       Hunk waved them over with a friendly grin. He called out as they approached the fire. “Hey, can you guys wake Keith up and grab Allura and Shiro?” He grimaced. “I don't really want to yell for them right now. You don’t come between Allura and her maps.”

       Pidge nodded solemnly. “Millard, you get Keith. I’ll grab the other two.”

       “Ok.”

       They split up, Pidge heading off to carefully untangle Allura from her maps, and Millard to rouse Keith from his nap.

       Millard approached the overhang where Keith slept quietly, not wanting to startle Keith awake. The red paladin slept fitfully, his brow furrowed and his lips moving in murmured protests. _Is he having a nightmare about Lance again?_ Millard thought, worried.

       He crouched down next to Keith, one hand raised to touch Keith’s shoulder- when suddenly Keith gave a shudder and snatched Millard’s wrist. With eyes open but unseeing, Keith was _begging_. “Please, no! Don’t take her away! Please! Mom! Mom…”  
With that, his eyes snapped shut, and Millard wrenched back his hand.

       “Keith, Keith!” He shook Keith by the shoulders, trying desperately to wake him. “It's a nightmare!” Keith snapped awake, his eyes wide again, but this time able to see the world around him. “Millard…?” He breathed, reaching for the boy’s arms. “Where…?”

       Millard kept a tight hold on Keith’s shoulders. “You were having a nightmare.” The red Paladin’s eyes unfocused slightly as he shrank in on himself. “I- I was.”

       Millard bit his lip. “W-what happened? It sounded like someone was being taken away…” Keith forced an uneasy smile. “That's… a story for- for another day, ok?”

       “O-ok. Um…” Millard stammered. “Hunk has dinner ready. That's why I came to wake you up.”

       Keith took a steadying breath. “Thank you, Millard. Thank you getting me out of that dream.”

       “Y-you’re welcome,” Millard answered, still shaken.

       Keith smiled again, this time sincerely as he pulled himself up. “Let's go get some of Hunk’s delicious cooking, ok?” Millard nodded and followed him back to the fire.

* * *

  
       Hunk dished out generous portions of a delicious smelling stew as they all settled in to eat.

       They sat in silence, except for mumbled complaints from Pidge, who was nursing a sore ear after disturbing Allura from her planning.

       As they cleaned up, Shiro quietly moved next to Pidge. “I heard some interesting sounds this afternoon,” he said. “Did something happen?”

       “N-no! Of course not,” Pidge answered. “Everything was fine.” They fidgeted, looking for a believable answer. “Millard wanted me to show him some of my moves, and I got a bit carried away.”

       “I see,” Shiro smiled, and Pidge gave an internal sigh of relief. _He bought it._

       Shiro, however, had not bought it. Pidge was many things, but a convincing liar was not one of them. However, they weren’t hurt, and neither was Millard, so he decided to leave it be. But he was still watching.

* * *

  
       Allura called them all back together after everything was cleared away.

       “We’re all need to turn in early tonight.” She clapped her hands together and held them there. “We'll head off as soon as we can tomorrow. We’re less than a day away from the prison, and the faster we arrive, the better.”

       Keith shifted beside Millard, frustrated.

       “Before we rest however, we need to discuss something. I believe that Hunk, Pidge, and myself should remain at camp while Shiro and Keith break Lance out.”

       Pidge immediately began to protest, but Allura quickly shushed them. “We won’t be a great deal of help inside the prison, Pidge. Enclosed spaces aren’t good for either of our fighting styles.” Pidge harrumphed but grudgingly agreed.

       “What are we going to do while we wait, then?” Hunk asked. “Just sit around?”

       “No.” Allura shook her head. “I’m going to need you to prepare food and medicines for him. We don’t know the extent of the injuries he may have sustained.” She looked troubled. “We need to be prepared.”

       Shiro and Keith looked at one another, Shiro with worry in his eyes and Keith with fire in his. “Keith, are you feeling up for this?” Shiro asked. “You’re still healing too.” Keith cut him off. “I know my body Shiro, I’ll be just fine." He clenched a fist. “Getting Lance back is the most important thing.”

       Pidge snorted. “He won’t appreciate it if you die in the process. Who will he fight with if you’re not around?” Keith whipped his head around and glared daggers at Pidge, who smirked. “Hey,” they said, lifting their hands in mock surrender. “I’m just telling it like it is.”

       Keith glanced around the find the others either fighting back a laugh or pointedly looking away. Except for Millard, who just looked confused.  
The red paladin humphed and slouched down in his seat.  
       Allura smiled. “Alright, that's quite enough teasing. Now that we have that sorted out, it's time we were all in bed. It's going to be a hard day tomorrow.

* * *

  
       Keith woke Millard just before dawn.

       The sky was dark except for the first rays of the sun, streaks of red and gold in the sky.

       “Hey,” he said quietly. “Do you want to exercise with me this morning? You asked me a couple days ago.” Millard rubbed the sleep from his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” Keith smiled. “Alright then, it's time to get up.”

       He stood and gestured for Millard to follow, leading him to the same clearing that Pidge had used to demonstrate their air bending the day before.

       Keith faced Millard and demonstrated a stance. It was immediately recognizable as a fire bending stance, and Millard felt relieved at the familiarity. It almost felt like one of his old bending lessons again.

       “Do you remember any of what you saw the other morning?” Keith asked.

       Millard shook his head. “No.”

       “Well, that's alright, it's a pretty complicated form.” Keith smiled. “Not many people know it, either. It's from a time when Humans were fire-benders too.” Millard’s eyes stretched wide at that and he opened his mouth to speak, but Keith spoke again first.

       “That's a history lesson for some other time though. We're here for training, not history this morning.” He rolled his neck and wrists, then settled more heavily into the stance. “Here. I’ll show you before I start teaching it to you.”

       Keith began to go through a series of smooth flowing motions, familiar and yet altogether new to Millard.

       Galra fire-bending techniques were stiff and utilitarian, focused on efficiency and rate of fire. This… This was something else. The movements slid smoothly from one to the other, a complete contrast to the militant style that Millard had been taught. He watched, transfixed, his own small limbs unconsciously moving in tandem as Keith continued to… The only word for what he was doing was _dance_.

       The form was like a dance, artistic in its execution, yet Millard could clearly see how it would work for directing fire-bending.

 

 

       With every movement, Keith’s speed increased, flowing through the forms faster and faster, a joyous smile spreading across his face. The final few motions were strong and forceful, marking the end of the dance, and Keith locked into the last stance, and stopped, panting, the fierce grin still on his face.

       Millard was speechless. “That. Was. Awesome!” he cheered when he could finally find the words. “How did you learn that?!?”

       Keith winked at him. “I had to take a trip to somewhere very far away. Maybe someday I can show it to you.” He stood straight and crossed his arms over his chest. “For now, I’ll just teach you the motions. We’ll go slow for now though, it takes practice to not actually release any fire when you’re moving quickly.”

       Millard simply nodded, overcome by the abject awesomeness yet again.

       “Alright then, we’ll just learn the first few forms today…”

* * *

Excerpt from  _The Sun Trials._

_Pilgrims to this site have grown fewer as the years have passed. The last in recent memory was an angry young man._

_He avoided our snares, learned the dance, and made his way to the mountain site._

_He demanded an audience with the dragons. His demands shocked us all. We had believed ourselves forgotten by the world and protected by our isolation._

_Shockingly, he passed his trial. We all recoiled as his skin shifted colors, pale purple rising to the surface in tandem with the dragons' rainbow flames._

 

 

 

 


	11. The Mountain

 

 

 

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

       Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

       The Avatar failed to defeat them and perished under their onslaught. The world has been without an Avatar for a little more than a decade. If they do not return soon, there may be no one left to save the world from the darkness that consumes it.

 

# Book 1: Fire

 

 

### The Mountain

       By the time Allura called them back, Millard had learned the first section of what Keith called The Dragon Dance.

       He was incredibly excited. The dance felt good, smooth and open and colorful. It was fun. However, it would have to wait.

       “We need to hurry,” Allura said once she had gathered them all. “Coran sent a falcon.”

       The Paladins collectively tensed. Millard tugged on Hunk’s sleeve and whispered in the earth-bender’s ear when he bent down. “What's so bad about a falcon?”

       Hunk tried to explain. “The rebellion has some very well-trained hawks that carry messages. They’re super well-trained, and completely invaluable to us. But the Empire has gotten very good at hunting them down if one is ever sighted, so we only use them for emergencies.”

       “Oh,” Millard said.

       Allura continued. “Our operatives have intercepted a number of telegrams that indicate that a very highly ranked Galran official is on his way to the prison right now. He is expected to arrive within two days. He’s there specifically to… collect Lance.”

       Keith gritted his teeth. “What are we waiting for, then?”

       Millard looked at him and saw no hint of any of the fierce joy from just minutes before. Keith was tense and angry now, worried.

       “You’re right,” Allura agreed. “Everyone help clear the camp and we’ll depart.”

* * *

  
       After a flurry of activity, the camp was finally clean and they headed off into the woods.

       Allura conferred with Shiro and Keith in a low voice, walking quickly. Millard struggled to keep up, internally cursing his short legs yet again. Pidge had given up running to catch up every few seconds and instead hopped along, propelling themselves with short blasts of air. Hunk kept pace easily, laughing heartily at Pidge’s style of locomotion.

       They flung a rather rude hand gesture over their shoulder, but tossed Hunk a knowing grin right after. The two laughed together, obviously completely at ease despite their worries about Lance.

       After several hours of walking with only two short breaks, Millard jogged to catch up with Hunk and asked, shyly, “Hunk? Can- can I ride on your shoulders for a little while?” Hunk smiled warmly. “Sure, buddy. Turn around,” he said, reaching down and heaving Millard by his armpits up over his head and into his shoulders.

       “Whoa!” Millard giggled. “Thank you!”

       “No problem.”

       The group walked on for several more hours, Millard returning to the ground once he had rested a bit.

       The woods around them began to change, the landscape shifting from broadleaf trees and thick underbrush to harsh scrubland, full of dark and thorny bushes. The land was ridged, ancient ripples of stone frozen in place in the wake of an ancient eruption, the sky an ashen shade of grey, the air sour.

       Silence reigned, the land barren and unsuitable for most of the creatures that thrived in the thick woods. Lizards could be heard skittering around the stones, and the occasional bird called from overhead, but for the most part the landscape was empty. Before them rose the imposing monolith of Valkraet mountain, an ancient volcano that the Galra had repurposed into their strongest and most foul prison.

       The oppressive heat and the molten stone at the core of the mount kept prisoners exhausted and complacent, it was the most effective prison for any water-bender prisoners that the Galra captured. The barren land and high temperature leached all moisture from the air, leaving the benders with nothing to work with and rendering their powers useless.

       The Paladins crept across the lava-scape, crawling low to the ground and keeping out of sight of the watchtowers surrounding the entrance to the prison.

       Millard stayed especially low, very uncomfortable. The people at the top of those towers were his people, the ones he had been taught to see as safe. But as he watched, one of the guards looked up at a passing bird and laughed. He whacked his fellow guard on the shoulder and pointed, laughing as he launched a fireball from his open hand and incinerated the poor creature.

       Millard covered his mouth with his hands and sat heavily with his back to a ridge.

       Frowning, Hunk moved over to Millard. “Are you alright?”

       Millard nodded shakily. “I- I’m ok. It's ok.”

       Hunk squeezed his knee encouragingly, then continued on, catching up with Shiro and Allura, who were still talking quietly, farther up toward the prison. Pidge and Keith followed him, carefully moving behind the ridges.

       Millard sat for a minute longer, then started to turn and peer around the ridge he had been leaning against. Suddenly he yelped. Something warm and wet had poked him in the arm! He scrambled back to find a strange scaled creature staring at him with large black eyes. It sat on its hind legs, scaly, plated tail curled around its feet, it's front legs hanging down in front. It looked like some sort of anteater, but with… Scales?

       Millard was very confused.

       Keith called back. “Millard, are you ok?” Millard could hear the red paladin scraping along the ground back towards him.

       “I’m ok! Sorry, I put my hand on a sharp rock. Everything's fine.”

       Millard pressed a finger to his lips, urging the creature sitting beside him to be quiet. It cocked its head at him, but stayed silent.

       Millard poked his head out around the ridge. The rest of the group was whispering among themselves, working out ideas for getting past the prison’s fortifications. He turned back and shooed the creature, gesturing it that is should head off. “Go on, you. Get!” he whispered.

       The scaly creature set its front feet on the ground and uncurled. It turned around and started to walk. Millard gave a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a groan as the creature simply turned in a circle and sat down on its back legs again, looking rather proud of itself.

       Millard looked around nervously. _Why won’t it go away?_

       “C’mon, go!”

       The creature continued to sit. Then it started to shake slightly and the spaces between its scales began to glow slightly, the light pulsating up and down.

 _Is it…_ laughing _at me?_ Millard wondered, miffed. _Hmph._

        _Fine, then._ Millard scrabbled to his feet, sticking his tongue out at the creature. If it won’t leave, I will. He grabbed his bag and carefully worked his way around the ridge.

       The Paladins had gone on yet one ridge further, but as Millard prepared to move again he felt something rub at his leg.

       The scaled creature had followed him again! Now it was rubbing its face against his leg like some sort of strange cat.

       “Oh, quiznak,” Millard said irritably. “Why do you keep following me?”

       The creature laid its front claws and head across Millard’s leg, staring up at him with its bright eyes. Millard felt a little part of his heart melt. It _was_ kind of cute…

       “Drat,” he said. “Fine.” He could hear Allura calling Hunk and Pidge back to her and wishing Shiro and Keith good luck.

       Glancing around nervously, he slipped off his bag and opened the drawstring. “If you want to stay with me, you gotta get in, ok? You have to stay hidden.”

       The creature sniffed at the bag and then carefully crawled in, curling up into a small red and brown ball at the top. One of its eyes peered out at Millard before it started to glow slightly and closed its eyes, appearing to fall asleep.  
Millard closed his eyes and blew a sigh of relief. He heard Allura call his name softly and called back a quiet response. “I’m right here!” He slipped his bag back on and worked his way around back to the group.

       Keith gave Millard a hug before sending him back to Allura.

       “We’ll be fine, alright?” Keith told him.

       “I know.” Millard said with a smile.

       Then Shiro and Keith were off, slipping across the landscape like a pair of shadows.

       The others headed back towards the woods. As they reached the edge of the forest, an inquisitive snout popped out of Millard’s bag and appeared next to his cheek, sniffing the air.  
“Shh,” Millard said, gently pushing the nose back towards the bag. A small pink tongue licked his finger and Millard giggled. “You have to stay there.” With one more lick, the scaly creature withdrew its head and curled back up again.

       Then Millard ran to catch up with the others as they vanished back into the underbrush.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know how each version of the avatar show has to have animal companions?  
> Someone always has to have an animal. Don't worry, there will be more animals in the future.  
> :3


End file.
